


Remnants of an Ancient Code

by Twisted_Fate_MK2



Category: RWBY, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2019-11-04 09:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 100,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17896274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Fate_MK2/pseuds/Twisted_Fate_MK2
Summary: Jaune Arc is a simple enough person, mainly wanting not to be eaten by Grimm when his father finally agrees to take him out on a patrol. That almost happens, and then he finds himself trapped in an ancient temple, unable to leave until 'Instructor' teaches him something he can use to get out of the mountain. Something which, he finds quickly, will help him fulfill his dream...Or, he supposed, it was his passion now. And through his passions, the Force would set him free.





	1. Chapter 1

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Official Supporters: 

Grand Priestess, Luna Haile -

High Priest, Alvelvnor

Priest, The Impossible Muffin

Priest, Xager the Chaos King 

Acolyte, DigiDemonLord

Acolyte, Stonecold

Initiate, Greg Gibson

Initiate, Gentleman Mad

Initiate, Lebenden_Toten

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM one of us for details or join our discord. Server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, and remember to post a Review/Comment to let me know what you liked and didn’t. 

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Betas for this story so far :

It'z Syndrome: Begun, the Clone Wars have…  
Voltegeist: Yoda, you are not.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“Run, boy!” His father called, great sword held in both hands singing through the air before him as he twisted on a heel. The weapon cut as much as crushed through the two Beowolves, slamming them into the ground as the man stepped forward and yanked the sword up, smashing it into the shoulder of another as it leapt, crushing it against a tree beside the path they’d been walking through. 

Gripping the base of the blade and the handle, he held the weapon horizontal like a spear and bellowed, “I will hold them off while you do! And then I will find you, but I can’t defend you!”

The boy behind him pressed against the wood of the tree behind him, stock still and staring at the monsters with wide, blue eyes. He couldn’t fight against grimm like these and so wore simple jeans and a white shirt, unlike the man in both respects. To contrast Jaune’s civilian clothes almost seemingly by design, the old Arc who wore heavy plated armor over chain mail and padded cloth, with an open barbute, all colored a dull silver and edged in gold. A thick cloak trailed down his back, stopping halfway up his calves, made of white cloth with the Arc crescent emblazoned proudly across it. On the helmet, a thin spine of white, spiny hairs painted white and edged in gold to mark the man for who he was even in and around Ansel. 

Nicholas Arc lunged as the next Beowolf, hemmed as much as they were by the trees along the path, leapt headlong for him. The ancient familial claymore met its chest and offered no gived, the force of the Beowolf impaling it on the weapon and killing it with little more than a whimper, and not even a spark of spent Aura to claim as a success. In one move, the Arch patriarch wrenched the blade free and up, smacking back a Grimm clawing over its fallen ken to get to them. 

And more just kept coming, climbing over their fellows as they did. 

“Jaune, please, I can win this fight and I will find you, but,” the man turned, looking down on his son who returned the flat stare with his own, “run. For now. Find a place to hide, somewhere, while I deal with the Grimm. I’ll use my Semblance to- Ah!” He snarled as a Beowolf leapt on his back, claws scraping against his Aura as he shoved it off and turned, bringing his sword high and slamming it down on the beast. 

Shouting over his shoulder, he finished simply, “Run or we both die, boy! I can’t defend this spot, I must attack!”

Unable to bring himself to even speak, the twelve year old turned and sprinted away as fast as his lanky legs could carry him, through the forest and away from the fight down the path they’d been going on. The Huntsman could only spare a few seconds to watch his son’s back recede into the thick treeline, grimacing and murmuring a prayer for his safety before turning back.

Now his son was away from the fighting itself, the man surged his Aura, letting out his Semblance and luring Grimm towards him for a mile around, heaving the blade high and finally leaping into the air with a guttural battlecry, sword batting aside the trio of Grimm that leapt to meet him. Now his son was safe enough, and the Grimm in the area lured to him, it was just a game of killing Grimm.

Which he, as it just so happened, was very good at doing, no matter how many came.

He just hoped Jaune could keep running away until he could go and find him, and that he didn’t head into the mountains with the storms rolling in… 

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“Fuck you, you boney, furry, black, little… Little fucks!” Jaune shouted in that squeaky attempt at a defiant tone that young teenagers often used, scrabbling up the steep, rocky incline he’d run up against as he ran from his father, straight in a line for nearly ten minutes before he slowed down. “Eat rocks!”

Behind him, two Creeps scrambled awkwardly up the slope after him, the blonde kicking and pulling rocks free to send them tumbling in his wake more out of spite than anything else. Many of the rocks hit, he saw when he stopped to rest for a second and look, the small rocks mostly just bouncing uselessly off armored hide, thick fur, and muscled legs and doing nothing. The hill just wasn’t steep enough, caught between being steep enough to need to be climbed to make any real progress.

“Which is the only reason the Creeps aren’t eating me already…” He thought aloud, watching one hop up to another rock and then stumble and fall back, rolling in the loose rocks and dirt. “At least they can’t climb without hands…”

It scrambled back up and turned, leaping again at the slope and then falling once more, rolling over more easily and snarling up at him. The other, though, seemed tired of leaping and scrabbling, instead shoving its hardened nose into the loose rocks and tossing them away. An action it continued until it found a solid rock to serve as an anchor and moved up a few feet to repeat the process. The other, seeing its partner’s success, joined in quickly enough, and the Grimm started making real headway towards him. Even some fifteen feet up and ahead, he knew they’d catch up to him soon enough, and turned to keep going. 

“Of course, I fuckin’ would get the smart Grimm.” He grunted, pulling himself up to the next rock and panting before reaching for the next in a long line of muddy hill and loose rocks, arms already sore and with plenty more climbing to do and rain pattering down around them, making the climb even more terrifying. “Just don’t fall, Jaune… Just don’t fall.”

But he couldn’t let himself freeze, he didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he did. Instead, he forced himself to just climb. Past the cuts on his hands, the water slicked surfaces, the dizzying heights and even past the snapping and snarling Grimm far below. He just kept climbing, as fast as he could, for what felt like an hour straight, up maybe a hundred feet of steep, wet hill. How he even made it came down to the very strong desire to not get eaten.

Giant monsters hounding you, who wanted to rip you to pieces, turned out to be good motivation not to fall.

Exhausted and freezing, the young boy pulled himself over the edge of the hill and rolled onto his back, sweating so much he’d be soaked without the pelting rain and howling wind whipping against his skin. After several minutes with his eyes squeezed shut against the rain and chest heaving for breath, he forced himself to roll over and look down the hill he’d climbed in his desperate escape, to see where the Grimm were. And then screamed loudly in surprise, scrabbling away as one leapt the couple feet left between him and the pair, jaw snapping in front of him before it fell away and rolled all the way back down the hill. 

Around him, the top of the ridge he’d climbed to stretched for about a hundred yards in either direction, never wider than ten feet or more vegetated than a few sparse bushes and short, squat trees clinging to the mountainside and covered in thin branches and sparse leafage. Above him, the cliff turned sharp, covered in slick, sharp rocks and almost at a right angle for twenty feet at least before it started easing off. 

He was far too exhausted to make that climb, he knew. Already, his legs were trembling under him still as he stood.

Swearing under his breath, he turned and looked down, the Grimm scrabbling up the last foot. Looking around, he picked up a rock the size of his chest, panting and raising it over his head and then throwing it down on the closest Grimm. It hit the Grimm’s head with a muted thunk and threw it down under the weight of the rock, the monster sliding, stunned, down the steep and muddy incline. It slid, rolling to recover already, and Juane turned with a petty smile of satisfaction to head towards the right side of the mountain in search of somewhere he could hide. 

Running as fast as his tired body could carry him - so, shambling at a pace that would slightly outpace a zombie on television - he followed the ridge until he found a cave that he figured would work and ducked into it. Inside it was dim and damp, and the cave dove deep, at a gentle angle, down into the mountain proper, with round sides and no apparent turns as far as he could see down the dark hole. He looked back the way he’d come, wondering for a moment if he should keep looking.

He turned to leave when something in him… Tugged his attention onto the tunnel’s entrance, like a rope tied around his stomach tugging him back to the entrance even when he’d decided to leave. He took a step towards the cave and heard the rocks back the way he’d come shift, turning in time to see the first Creep lumber around the corner and come to a stop, head low and hissing threateningly. 

Just as it started to sprint towards him, he dove into the entrance of the cave, shuffling down the gentle incline he found inside as fast as he could manage.

The cave was a foot taller than Jaune himself, but only an inch wider than his shoulders, each shoulder brushing against the stone when he jostled to either side as he went. Several times, he hit stone and scraped the skin, the fit was so tight. The good thing was that while he could shuffle along with his hands on the walls for support and step around the water flowing steadily down the tunnel easily enough. The bad thing was that the Grimm didn’t give up, it wasn’t what they did.

Instead, the Creeps behind him slammed back and forth to make progress, occasionally getting stuck and wriggling for passage, or clawing through the stone with reckless abandon, to follow him down and into the earth. Their violent pursuit sent tremors through the rock and stone that he could feel, occasionally even spider-webbing cracks in it that caught up to his fingers. The stone split loudly now and again, sending slabs tumbling down just behind him, occasionally sending flecks along his shoulders and head that terrified him and spurred him onwards ever faster. Ever more recklessly.

But that didn’t mean they were being slowed down that much, unfortunately. 

As he and the Grimm went deeper, the light outside vanished beyond strikes of lightning that silently illuminated the passage. In the dark, he could barely make out where he was going, even though the Grimm, he knew, could. He was weak and small, for a Frontiersman family at the very least, but he wasn’t a moron. Beowolves were middlingly fast and pretty strong, Ursai were slow and hit like trucks, and Creeps… Creeps were subterranean and pack creatures. Which meant they could see in the dark, and were far more at home underground than he was. 

A fact that made itself known when he felt breath blow against his neck, a growl rumbling across him and drawing a strangled scream from him as, instinctively, he leapt forward. 

His head struck the stone and he fell, sliding and crashing down the slope quickly, hot blood flowing from his forehead where the stone he had struck the stone. All the way, further down than he knew to be possible, he fell until he slammed into something hard, flat and round at the bottom. His legs flared in pain and buckled, trying and then failing just as quickly to catch him, the boy crumpling in a ball of wounded, bruised blonde preteen. 

The grimm weren’t far behind and, bleary eyed, he rolled so that he was laying on the metal circle, just able to make out red dots in the dark. Bouncing around, as the Creeps came, but burning with that hatred and malice only Grimm could match. Desperate, his hands felt around the surface until he found a long, metal cylinder about as long as his arm and lifted it up. Some kind of pipe, but if a rock had cracked its plating…

“Come on then!” He shouted loudly, voice shrill, cracking and pained but pulling as much defiance as his adrenaline filled body could manage out of himself. “First one down loses an eye to remember me by! I’m an Arc, and an Arc never goes back on his word, so… I’ll make it memorable!”

A cheesy line from a movie he’d seen days prior, but it filled him with the faux confidence of a teenager playing at hero regardless. It was the best he was going to get, the rational, resigned part of him said… The vast majority of him was torn between hoping to hurt them back, and wanting to scream for mommy, though. 

Then the metal circle jerked back and down, the blonde rolling across a metal, grated floor and crying out in surprise. The circle closed up, and he heard the Grimm impacting him, clawing against the metal in a frenzy before rock and stone slammed into them and the metal circle both. Thousands of rocks, beating pelting against it with the force of an avalanche for a solid thirty seconds before leaving him in dark silence. 

Coughing and sucking in stale air, he sat up on the cold, metal floor and tried to look around in the blakness. Then, lights flicked on. First subtle red, illuminating the long passageway for him but not blinding him in doing so, almost like it was on purpose. The passage was simple enough. A dull, ruddy brow grated floor sat over a small, open area below where water flowed by, from the rains outside he guessed after a second. The walls were flat and black, featureless aside from the red lights at the top and bottom of each of the clearly segmented panels of metal. The ceiling was the same, except instead of the red lights it had darkened strips of long, pale glass. 

“I would suggest you not look at the lights before they come on.”

“Huh?” He looked to the far door instead, where a skeletal thing stood just as the lights flicked on, blinding him. He fell against the metal circle again, arm shielding his eyes, and snarled. Or tried to, the sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a squeak of anger. “What the hell!”

“I did warn you, young Arc.” The voice laughed, sound caught between a synthetic sounding but human laugh and an odd whirring. The machine plugged towards him as he blinked his eyes opening, looking at the humanoid contraption. “You are bleeding. I trust you aren’t too terribly damaged, Arc?”

It looked oddly like a knight to him, actually, with a bulky, armored and man-shaped torso and long limbs covered in smooth, dull silver metal like plated armor, that ended in what looked very much like gauntlets ending in rounded fingers. Its head was flat-topped, with a long antenna sticking out of one side, and a wide visor that glowed ominously crimson. It’s legs, though, were blocky, like the armor had been stripped away at some point for some reason, leaving behind exposed wiring around blocky, ball-ended metal framework wrapped in black cords that held it together. 

“I-I, uh, I hit my head on the rock on the way down. And then I… Fell, a little bit, too.”

“Oh yes, I heard that, little Human.” The machine said, letting out a whirring sound that Jaune decided had to be a chuckle or a laugh based on how it shook its head. “It was quite amusing, to hear that sound… Though I took more interest in you shouting at those pathetic, bestial things. Did you suppose you would frighten them off?”

“No, I just… I dunno.” He shrugged, unsure of what to say, but the machine just stared down at him silently. Waiting on a real answer. “I didn’t want to just… Let it happen, you know? Wanted to at least sound cool when they got to me. It was stupid, I know, but… I dunno, it just felt better than not doing anything. Even if, you know, it didn’t do anything.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Arc. Not at all, I would in fact say quite the opposite.” The machine chortled in that whirring way it did once again, kneeling heavily with an electrical, clanging sound echoing out in the passageway as it did. Reaching out, it gripped his chin and tilted his head to look at the cut there, bleeding hot and fast down the side of his head. It reached behind its waist and produced a packet of blue something and reached out to dab it at his forehead, squeezing it out like sauce as it spoke, “I found what you said, and how you did, rather amusing. Enough to save your pitiable self from the monsters quite literally nipping at your heels, at the least.”

“W-What?” He blinked, flinching as the cold, goopy liquid touched the center of his cut. Then it soothed and he relaxed, looking up at the eight foot tall machine in quiet anxiety. “W-Why would you have left me out there? Those things would have killed me!”

“Hm? Is it so surprising?” The machine chortled again, seeming more amused than before. “My duty is to oversee and protect this sacred site from all trespassers, and those monsters would not make that any easier. One simple, crying child would not be worth the damages this temple would suffer if I helped him. But,” the machine enunciated the word heavily with drops of amusement dripping from it, head tilted as he nursed Jaune’s wound, “you were not some pitiful, crying whelp, were you?”

“I mean…” He shrugged weakly and winced, cuts and bruises flaring when he did, the boy fighting back tears at the pain there. “No, I-I guess not… I was just pretending, though, I wasn’t actually- I was scared, I just didn’t want to… I don’t know.”

“You do not know much, do you, Human boy?” The machine pulled away, returning the little, silver packet to wherever it had gotten it from and then stood. Jaune gave the machine a look, and it chortled yet again, “You say ‘I don’t know’ quite a bit is what I mean, Arc.” 

Turning, the machine walked to the door and Jaune got a look at its back, which matched its front for the most part, but with the addition of a large case on its back where a man’s hips would have been, and black tubing running up from the case to the back of its head. The sides of the head-sized case were flat, with little handles where they could be pulled open, and unlike the polished looking front of the machine, the back was spotted and dotted with rust and dirt.

“It is hard to clean and maintain my back. The legs are difficult as well, hence the rust, damage and general wear and tear. My automated repair foundry is, sadly, insufficient for producing replacements for the encasement and the like.” The machine answered his curious looking, knowing he was looking without even turning to see him doing it. The blonde flinched and looked away, embarrassed to have been caught, and the robot whirred its laughing again. “Best you get used to seeing it, young one, for you are quite trapped down here now. You’ll be seeing it a lot.”

“What do you mean, I’m trapped?” The blonde stood, looking at the back of the machine’s head and adding, “I-I have to get home! My dad will be looking for me, my family… H-He was going to finally train me to be a Huntsman! I can’t be… Stuck down here!”

“The only access to the surface large enough for either of us to use is this one, young man.” The machine said simply, turning to look down on him and tilting its head to the side. “You did notice the collapse you caused, yes?”

“Y-Yeah, but…” 

“We can’t dig it out, we have no tools to do so and I am unsuited to the harsh tasks involved. We also have nowhere to move the rock to.” Holding up a hand, it counted each point as it made it, “No manpower, no equipment, nowhere to move the rock to… Three reasons we, or rather you, are damned here. But do try and look on the bright side, being trapped in an ancient library can’t be worse than being torn to shreds and forgotten in a mountain.”

“There has to be something I can do!” He demanded, panic washing over him while the machine watched in silence. Pulling at his hair he turned, looking towards the door the machine had come through and then back to it. “I can’t stay down here. Open that door, I-I’ll find a way through if I have to dig and crawl.”

“You will die.” The machine pointed out quietly, “Before you make any true headway, likely crushed under tons of rock shifting around your… Efforts.”

“I may as well be dead already, stuck down here with no way out.” He said simply, surprised at how easily he said it. How easily he realized he meant it. “I have a family, I have… Things I want to do with my life, I-I can’t just be stuck down here. I have to try something, anything that’ll work or-or even anything that probably won’t.”

“Anything at all?” The machine asked, Jaune nodding stiffly at the question. Turning and striding away, back the way it had come, the machine said, “Then follow me. It has been long since I had someone to teach… And if you prove adept, I do know of one tool you may, in time, be able to use to escape.”

“What kind of tool?” He asked, walking on still-tired legs after the machine into the wide, round entry room to the temple proper. 

Grated floors and the same steel walls surrounded him, going about ten feet up and lined by those same lights as in the other hallway. Three other doors were spaced evenly around the room, one far to his right, one far to his left and one in the back, directly behind the stature. and in the center stood a large statue of a robed man holding two long, straight baton-like things. A metal mask covered its face, staring down at the ground, and heavy, plated looking armor covered its body and legs. A wide visor had been set into the old stone, made of some kind of red glass covered in random seeming facets and grooves. Like the machine he’d met here, it reminded him of knights, in heavy armor and carrying long swords to fight their enemies. 

But unlike the machine itself, it had that same… Distracting, attracting feeling that the mouth of the tunnel had had when he’d looked down it. Like it wanted him, somehow, to do something. Which, he knew, was impossible… It was just a statue, after all. 

“A statue of the Sith Lord Arkanius, who built this temple when his fellows… Rather pointedly told him to leave their company, you could say.” The machine informed him, standing behind the smaller boy and looking up at the machine with him. “A follower of Darth Revan’s later ideas on the Dark Side as a whole, with his own interpretations layered on top, of course. Both of which you shall have to learn about if you wish to leave.”

“What’s a Sith? And the Dark Side sounds… Weird.” He asked, turning to look up at the machine and adding in a curious tone, “And why does it feel like… Like the statue wants something?”

“Lord Arkanius is interred here, and so his presence has an impressive pressure on those who are sensitive to the Force… For you to feel it already is a good thing indeed. Useful.” The machine turned suddenly, speaking over its shoulder as it went. “As for what a Sith and the Dark Side are… You shall learn, in time, boy. For now, we must tend to your wounds, and I must reactivate and repair the food nutrient synthesiser.”

“Nutrient synthesiser?” He repeated silently, grimacing, “That sounds nasty…”

“It is unpleasant, but while I have a sleeping area and the required hygiene needs a Human like you needs, I do not have any way to grow food. Eat the paste or starve, I shall leave the choice to you.” The machine said simply, shrugging as they stepped into the room. “This is the library, where Arkanius saw to the storage and maintenance of ancient knowledge in these scrolls, tomes and holocrons. All of which you will, in time, come to study and learn.”

The room was maybe thirty feet long and the same wide, only as tall as his bedroom at home had been. Three walls were dedicated to storage, one lined in scrolls stacked on top of each other methodically and capped on either end by red painted wood, the next in heavy looking books backed in everything from cloth to leather, and on the last in little black boxes stacked high and layered three deep on the shelves. They, like the statue, seemed to… Tug on his attention, pulling him to them, but he didn’t know why and it subsided after a moment while he looked around. 

The last wall, to the right of the door, had a wide, metal desk that took the entire wall up set against it. Two chairs had been tucked under it, one of which the machine pulled out for him, the wheels rolling over the old, musty smelling carpet that covered the floor of the area. The desks were empty and kind of plain, with small triangles set onto the center for… Something. They were raised slightly, so he guessed something would be set into them, but he couldn’t be sure. 

“Ah!” Jaune cried out in surprise when the machine slammed down a heavy tome in front of him, the blonde recoiling on instinct. It held out a pair of glasses to him and, swallowing anxiously, he took them from him. “I don’t need glasses…”

“You need these, Arc.” The machine corrected, tapping the top of the book meaningfully. “Those glasses are a device of Sith Lord Arkanius’ design. They are connected to the computer network throughout the temple, and I have monitored your kind’s transmissions to keep the language translators up to date as well. These will translate the text you are looking at for you as you read.”

“How?”

“Do you know how advanced, predictive translator technology functions in translating words and images into ones you will understand instantaneously, superimposing them over the words you are reading as you go based on where your pupil is looking at the time?” He shook his head, and the machine gave his head a gentle pat. “Then don’t bother asking how, as you will not understand the explanation regardless. Now, read the cover aloud, please.”

“Okay…” He turned, putting the glasses on and then blinking, blue lines underlining each word and superimposing the words he could read over them when he looked at them. “A… Brief History of the Sith Code, Its Interpretations, and Its Applications.”

“Indeed. Enjoy your evening, Arc, I shall return in some hours with food and water for you.” The machine hesitated, as though waiting for something, and then added in a mirthful voice, “And also, a test on the book’s material.”

“Wait!” He called to the machine’s back, the robot turning to look at him. Grimacing awkwardly, he shuffled on the seat and asked, “Uh, I don’t know your name, so could you tell me what it is? M-Mine’s Jaune! And, uh, how long this will take before I can go home?”

“I am designated Instructor.” The machine said simply, “And… I do not know how long training you will take. But I suggest you get comfortable.”

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

New story~!

This will take Arclight’s place in the roster, and I’m posting it now to maintain that in my head and on my little calendar. Hope you all liked it~!

Next chapter will mark a huge time-skip to Jaune being sixteen. Star Wars is a bit of a thing for me, something I’ve devoted time to learning, but I am no master. If you have any suggestions, feel free~!

Begun, the Prequel memes have.


	2. Chapter 2

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Official Supporters: 

Grand Priestess, Luna Haile -

High Priest, Alvelvnor

Priest, The Impossible Muffin Priest, Xager the Chaos King 

Acolyte, Victus 

Acolyte, DigiDemonLord

Acolyte, Stonecold

Initiate, Greg Gibson

Initiate, Gentleman Mad

Initiate, Lebenden_Toten

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM one of us for details or join our discord. Server ,.for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, and remember to post a Review/Comment to let me know what you liked and didn’t. 

So, Fanfiction will not let me link to discord. So, I apologize to every single FF reader for this, but please PM me for a join link. And please consider doing so, I enjoy chatting with you lot. On AO3, the link is viable : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

If I could trick FF into thinking this is not a link here it is (delete the spaces and turn):  
D iscord . gg (slash) kfhkfUb

Betas for this story so far :

It'z Syndrome: I AM THE SENATE!

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“It is time for Force training, Acolyte.” The machine reminded him once again, for the fifth time in the last three minutes. The fourteen year old glared balefully at him, pulling the loose fitting robe over his shoulders and sliding his arms through the sleeves, and the machine whirred a laugh, as though it wanted to tick him off ahead of training. Which, to be fair, might actually be the case given everything he’d learned already. “Now, now, Acolyte. You are too small and weak yet to scare me with a petulant little glare such as that. Now get dressed, I shall see to the preparations of the training hall ahead of your use.”

The robe and pants were a couple years old, now at least, made by Instructor when Jaune had outgrown - or rather destroyed, in several cases - his own clothes. Simple matte black and equally simple cloth for pants and robe both, he felt and looked like the Mistralian monks he remembered seeing on television all the time. Minus the baldness, at least, he looked the part pretty well. 

Though if anyone asked he could have done without the metal flip flops, Instructor unable to make anything else with the little material he’d had left after the robes and his thick, cloth belt tied around his stomach to keep the robe closed. Instead, he’d used small metal plates with the last of the cloth used to make the strings that kept them on. ‘Better than having nothing between you and the grating’ Instructor had said with a mechanical shrug when he’d complained, understandably, about them.

“First thing when I get home, I’m getting some damn boots.” He swore to himself once again, the fifth time he’d done it, running a hand through his hair and sighing. He'd adjusted to the uncomfortable things, eventually, of course. But he would enjoy real shoes. “Gotta get out of this hole first, though.”

There was only one room for sleeping in inside the Temple, with little more in it than a simple cot tucked in the wall opposite the door and a small set of metal drawers to the right of the door. The room itself was barely even that, only a bit larger than a closet with just enough space for him to sleep, the furniture to fit, and for him to get dressed every morning. It was set off a small hallway only about six feet long, his ‘quarters’, as Instructor called it, on one side and a small bathroom on the other. Standing shower only, no bathtub even. 

But beggars couldn’t be choosers, another little snippet Instructor constantly told him on the rare occasion he voiced a complaint.

Through the door opposite the entrance was a longer hallway, about fifteen feet long here, with three doors. One to the right, where the nutrient paste was synthesised from algae, water, and whatever else Instructor put in it. He’d never gone in there and, for the sake of his sanity, he never wanted to for another thing Instructor had said, ‘Don’t watch your food getting made.’ 

Which sounded innocent, but something about the way the droid had said it… Unnerved him, about his food.

Across from there was another door into the meditation room, which was darker than it was outside and mostly empty. Inside was only one thing. A simple little red mat, old enough to be threadbare by now, and a single warm orange bulb set in the center of the ceiling. Like his room, it was only big enough for exactly one person to fit inside, and when he was inside he could reach out to touch any wall with the tips of his fingers in any direction. The lighting was warm, though, which was nice. 

“Go on in.” The droid hummed, Jaune turning to look towards the training hall door where the machine stood, hands clasped behind its back. “Today we’re focusing on Force training and control, specifically the latter.”

“I’d prefer learning how to use a lightsaber…” He grumbled, face contorted in distaste and aggravation. The machine didn’t answer, Instructor knowing it was easier to let him vent and move on. “I suck at control… And I hate meditation days. It’s so boring in there… Just sitting for hours, feeling the Force, it’s nice but...”

“A lightsaber, while useful, is not your main weapon in a fight, Acolyte.” The machine answered simply, approaching him and raising up a hand, three fingers extended. “Your first most important weapon is your-”

“Mind, from which plans and understanding of my enemy comes, and so their fall ultimately derives.” He parroted before Instructor could, giving the droid a meaningful look. It tilted its head to the side curiously at him and waved its hand, returning it to the other behind his back, and he recited, “Second is the Force, which can give me the power to observe and thus fuel the Mind in finding solutions, as well as in finding the solutions of others and foiling them or using them to my own ends. Finally is the lightsaber, a tool to be used as I wish it but never relied upon more than the Force or my own mind.”

“Good, Acolyte. Most impressive recitation indeed.” The droid complimented, head bobbing a rapid nod that Jaune had always taken for it smiling. “You’ve a strong mind, and you’ve learned so quickly the ways of Sith and Jedi, at least in principle. Your swordsmanship is even passable, enough that I would trust you to undergo tests outside the Temple if I could. And all done in less than three years. A Revanite born, if I might be so bold. And powerful in the ways of the Force, on both ends, though you can control neither.”

“You’re stroking my ego.” Jaune accused quietly, lacking an heat behind it. 

“An ego is a facet of a sentient mind, Acolyte. You need to, and deserve to as an aside, take pride in what you have accomplished so fast.” The machine didn’t even pretend to deny it, and Jaune hadn’t expected it to. It never did, after all. “Slow, to learn or weak Sith Acolytes die, killed in training or by their displeased masters as an example set for the others. You deserve to have pride in your strength, raw and untamed as it might be.”

“Raw and untamed won’t clear the tunnel, though. Just fuck it up even more.” They’d argued about that a year back, and the machine had made perfect sense. A blast of raw power strong enough to push the rock out would shake the mountain, and reseal it. If it didn’t cause even worse damages to the mountain. 

Sighing, he added in an already tired voice, “Let’s get this over with, then.” Stepping inside, he settled down onto the threadbare mat, his metal sandals laid by the door and legs folded under him comfortably. When the door didn’t close, he looked up in confusion, before Instructor stepped into it, and asked, “What?”

“How do Jedi focus themselves, and how does it differentiate to a Sith’s methods?” The machine asked curiously, head tilted to the side with the question. “Please,” he said when Jaune looked confused, “humor me.”

“Jedi cut themselves off from their emotions as much as they can, let the Force wash over them and simply… Embrace the calm.” He answered simply, paraphrasing from one of the dusty tomes he’d spent the first year memorizing and testing on. “A Sith does the opposite. Focuses on pain, rage, hate, or whatever passion drives them in the moment like a… Like a focusing lens on a lightsaber, directing and controlling the Force through it.”

“Indeed. Good answer, Acolyte. Excellent, in fact, and not even a recitation..” The droid complimented, whirring a sigh before it continued. “Your own words. Most excellent, that you have progressed so well. I liked your analogy as well, though it makes me sad. But luckily, I have an idea on how to find your focusing lens, where so much else has failed so spectacularly.”

“And that is…?” He pressed, curious and cautious in equal measure of the Droid’s end goal.

“Fear, Acolyte.” The machine answered simply, stepping back and out of the way of the door. It slammed closed and he shot to his feet, glaring at the door in fear and suspicion. The machine’s voice echoed in the room a second later, “You’ve been afraid of the dark since that night, with the Grimm. Use it.”

Then the lights cut out, and he was alone, eyes blinking in the pitch darkness of the room. Screaming, he lashed out, fists slamming into the door and demands that shrieked uselessly into the darkness. The Force came rushing to him when he called on it, like a flurry to match the emotions racing through his mind, electricity sparking along his entire body and arcing out against the metal walls of the small room. With a bellow that was two parts fear and one part rage, he swept his arms at the door, a wall of Force slamming into it. Twice more he tried it, but the door and the walls were too strong, the mountain around the walls holding them stock still and the door built with supports to hold it up. 

“Use the fear, Acolyte.” The voice echoed around him again, the blonde clutching at his head and sinking to his knees in the dark. He could hear the Grimm, snapping, clawing at the steel around them. “Be one with the Force. Like the Sith do, embrace your fear, accept it as part of yourself, use it to drive you. But like the Jedi teach, do not lose to it, yourself or otherwise. This door traps you, seals you inside.”

“So tear it down.”

As though the words themselves had brought it on, he felt a sudden and different… Shift inside himself, kneeling in the dark. The fear inside him burned bright, and around him the Force responded to his terror by whipping around him in a frenzy of passion and power. But beyond it was calm, the Force beyond his minute tempest of panic, anger and desperation like an ocean of calm. 

He’d read about this, the flurry around a Sith was his domain, his tempest to whip up. Most did so just by existing, driven and consumed by passions that fed the Force and drove it into the frenzy. Even a normal person, he knew, had a small tempest of these emotions around them at any given moment. The Force reacted like that to everything that was alive. Sith forced it into a tempest they could funnel, and Jedi fought to have as little impact as possible and instead let the Force carry them as it would. 

He could see, and reaching out with a hand feel, both though, like they were real. Waves of water, white and black, slamming and raging against each other where he and his effects ended and the natural state of the Force began. Reaching out with his hand and his mind, he let the calm wash into him, but didn’t let it take him. Instead, he let it contain him, pushed his fear and pain into it, let it mix together inside of his mind and his body. 

And then roared it forward, slamming a fist into the door. The Force, Light and Dark sides both, answered in a swirl of power that warped the heavy metal door. The Force spiraled into the metal like a drill, clutching and tearing right at its center. It screeched free and shot out, slamming against the door across from it, and he staggered out in its wake. Chest heaving and eyes wild, he whirled right and then left, and saw Instructor. 

“Excellent work. Positively wonderful.” It said, bringing its hands around in front of it and holding the long staff in its metal fingers. A lightsaber, double sided and as tall as his torso was, made of shiny steel. A simple weapon, unornamented and plain even, but the machine held it out to him like something saintly and said, “Take your weapon, Apprentice. You’ve passed your test and found the way to blend the Force within you.”

“This is…” He trailed off, a hand reaching out to brush against the smooth, cool steel towards the ends and then grooved in the center for grip. It called to him, the same way as the cave entrance, the same way as the statue, and he realized. “This is his lightsaber. T-The Sith Lord’s-”

“You have embraced his philosophies, and his interpretations of Revan’s as well. And excelled at both, even passing the first real test posed to you with flying colors.” The machine cut in, sounding… Proud, in a genuine way, for the first time in Jaune’s entrapment here. “I was… Programmed to wait here, until the day an Apprentice came who personified what Lord Arkanius believed.”

“You,” the machine said, grasping a hand with its own and pushing the staff into it, “are that Apprentice, Jaune Arc.”

“I understand…” The weapon was heavy in his hand, heavier at least than he’d thought it would be. He was angry, the fear still running through him, but he let the Force push it aside and asked simply, “What’s next, Master?”

“Next,” the machine sounded amused again, at what, Jaune couldn’t even hazard a guess, but it sounded very amused as it spoke, “you go back in the room, and do it again. And again, and again, until you are able to do it on command. Then, you’ll be ready.”

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“Are you afraid?” The machine asked two years later, its head tilted to the side in the odd way it conveyed its curiosity. He didn’t answer immediately, just looking at the sealed entryway and scratching the beard he’d grown, three inches long and braided. “Failure could be grave, so if you fear you aren’t ready to attempt this then-”

“I’m ready.” He snapped shortly. Shorter than he’d meant to, enough that he grimaced but not enough that he apologized. “Just… Give me a moment to prepare, please, Master.”

Reaching up, he pulled the shoulder length hair along his head, fingers deftly tying it so it fell in a ponytail behind him. His bands were too short, instead hanging down the sides of his face, but they didn’t block his sight so he didn’t mind. He needed a trim for them, but he was waiting until his sister could do it. Saphron gave the best haircuts, after all, and he was looking forward to it.

Assuming she didn’t kill him when he showed up to dinner four and a half years late or so, wearing black, baggy rags and plinking along with metal sandals. 

He seized on that sense of hope and desire, channeling the innate greed of wanting something into the Dark Side to gather his strength and the Lighter wish to be with family. The different sides of the Force within hi stirred at the prodding, the Dark tempest whirling to life while the calmness of the ocean like Light side contained it. Let it thrash and scream against its gentle tides, and let the ragged passions send tremors out into the waters of the Light Side inside him, eventually stilling once more, his desire and greed like drops in an ocean of infinite scope.

He barely even affected the Light, and so it answered his call alongside the Dark.

“Open the door.” He murmured, eyes opening, glowing faintly green as the Force suffused him and mixed, intermingling inside him and bubbling up. “I’m ready to leave this place.”

Without a word, the droid looked to the door and it clicked, scraping open as the stone pressed against it and screached along the other side. The rocks began to tumbled down, hundreds of them man sized or larger, and he roared in defiance at the mountain itself that had imprisoned him so long. Greed, love, fear, family, all mixing together and surging along his limbs and through his fingertips, the energy bursting from them in quantities he’d never dared summon before. So strong was his desire that the rock and stone slowed its descent, the closest rocks hovering in the air near enough he smelled the earth on them and his fingers touched the rocks that had gotten near. 

Then, with a noise that was caught between a grunt of strain and effort and defiance, he snarled and took a short, load laden step forward. The rock and stone went with him, heaving back under the force of his will. Hundreds of tons of rock, lifted and hovering, pushing back against itself at his wish and the Force’s granting of it. 

He took another step, sweat beading on his brow and body trembling, and nearly sank to his knees. Fear swept through him at that realization, the Temple would fall if he failed, and he’d die. Instructor would die.

“Focus, Apprentice.” Instructor said, voice cold and clear, like a knife cutting into his tension and fear. “Not on your fear, but on your desire. Is it worth the pain? The suffering? The work? You have been through hell enough for four years. Only to die here?”

“N-No.” But the weight was so great. 

“Then take what you want. Envision it in your mind, and speak its name into the Force.” The machine said, stepping to his right shoulder and raising a hand, laying cool metal on his forearm and adding quietly, “I am weak, after so long. But use what I have, let my power flow through you. Now do you have what you want?”  
“Yes.”

“Speak it.” The machine ordered, fingers digging into softe, unprotected flesh painfully. Only adding to the Dark Side’s tempest. 

“Ansel. Juniper. Saphron.” Name after name came, flowing from his lips and mind both and echoing out, into the Force with a cascade of Light and Dark both. Each word a step, each name a burden shoulder and pushed forward like the stones before him, each utterance a trudging, heavy step upwards into the black of the tunnel.

It took four hours before, finally, he saw light and began releasing the rocks at the back of his pile. The weight gave way in hundred pound intervals, until, finally, he stepped out in the bright sun of noon and fell to his knees, heaving for breath. The air was frigidly cold, so much so he wasn’t sure whether his tremors were from strain and in an effort to get breath, or an effort to get warm. Overhead, the sky was overcast and, in smatterings in the across the forest around his mountain, he could see some of the heavier clouds showering the forest intermittently. 

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire life. 

Sensing motion, he looked to his left and his eyes widened, a massive Ursa lumbering around the corner. It sniffed twice, covered in spines and scarred plates, and he stumbled to his feet, the Grimm snarling at him and trundling closer. Reaching behind himself, he pulled the lightsaber around, but he knew he was too slow. Exhausted from the labor of moving so much, for so long, and so far. The Force came to his fear and hope, then the latter shattered and the former sparked away, his mind and body too exhausted to go on without resting first to recover. 

Instructor, though, was fresh as could be. It stepped by, snapping the lightsaber from his hands and throwing it into its left, the twin red lances of energy sparking to life as it moved forward. The other reached behind it and pulled, from the small compartment, a small and silver gun, blocky and rusted in places. 

With a snarl, the Grimm swiped and the machine bent back at the waist impossibly, one side of the saber’s light dying. Using the bottom as a staff it steadied itself, other arm snapping up and unleashing two bright yellow lances of energy into the Grimm’s chest at point black range. The monster snarled and staggered back, left arm pulling back to swipe forward, but it went no further before the droid straightened and thrust forward. 

The red lance at the end of the saber sizzled in the Grimm’s forehead, bone plating melting away and flesh beneath boiling, before Instructor pulled it free and turned to him. 

The red light died and the machine held the weapon out, stating simply, “I shall never again intervene to save you, Apprentice. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Master.” He forced out, force of will alone making him stand and accept the offered weapon, returning it to a loop in his belt on his back. “Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t fight for myself, I was exhausted.”

“I know. And it isn’t weakness of the kind you should regret to be exhausted after a quite literally mountainous task.” With its off hand the machine turned, long finger pointing far and away, across the forest. “Your home, now, lies there. Not here. You are not welcome in the Temple until you are powerful enough to declare yourself a Lord.”

“I understand, Master Instructor.” He’d known with every step out of the hole that he’d never return, and been glad for it. Now, though, he turned and looked down the tunnel and felt… Sorrow. “I will return, Master.” He swore, turning to the machine, its head tilted curiously at him again, “When I am powerful enough, I’ll come back, and make you accept me as a Lord of the Force.”

“See that you do.” The machine answered simply, turning to descend once more into the Temple and then hesitating. Without looking to him, the ancient machine gave one last order. “Go home, Jaune. You’ve a family that no doubt buried you more than four years ago. You’ve much to catch up on.”

“Yes, Master.” He said quietly, sinking to a knee, fist planted against the stone. He stayed there until the machine disappeared down the tunnel, pulled the thin thin hood sewn onto his shoulders over his head and, once more, forced himself to stand and turned towards Ansel.

Towards home.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Grimm were attracted to negative emotions, he knew, and that was why so many swarmed over the mountain above the Temple. Even there, deep underground, the Dark Side manifested stronger than elsewhere and the Grimm could feel it. So avoiding them in the forest was an easy enough task to accomplish. Merely an effort of walking calmly and patiently, suffusing himself, or perhaps cloaking himself would be the better way to phrase it, in the Light Side of the Force abounding in the world he passed through. 

So the only Grimm he encountered were those who wandered into his path, surprised to see him and cut down by the heat of his saber before they could draw attention onto themselves and him with them. 

And finally, as evening drew close, he saw the walls of Ansel emerging through the trees, stepping out and smiling at the sight of the mountain town. 

A ten foot tall wall made of wooden timbers held up packed soil, soldiers atop walking in light mail and carrying long spears able to stab Grimm at the base of the wall. Several he spotted, leaning against a tree, had cloaks that flowed white and whipped in the wind, the Arc sigil emblazoned proudly on their backs. Beyond that, he knew, would be the settlement’s crop fields, storehouses and the famers who chose to live with their work. Corn, wheat, beans, potatoes and cotton, to supplement what they bought with the little Dust and much metal the settlement mined from the mountains around it. 

Beyond that, he could see the cold stone of Ansel’s main wall, dark grey stone reaching from one sheer mountain cliff to another. A great, wooden gate, reinforced by dark iron, sat in the center of either wall in a straight line. On that wall, behind low crenellations, more pike-armed soldiers walked, along with the lighter armored riflemen that would fire down on Grimm that attacked that way. 

Protected by the twenty feet of solid stone was Ansel proper. Rows and rows of small, stone houses sat, idyllic and full of happy people living their lives. Beyond that, behind behind a wrought iron fence, sat Arc manor. Made of the same dark grey stone as the Asnel wall, with a large center meeting hall for governing in the middle and two long, three story buildings to either side of it connected by enclosed walkways and gardens. On one side was where his father and the town’s Huntsman worked, maintained gear, and stayed when they needed rest in between missions.

On the right was where his family were, smoke puffing alluringly from the chimneys. “They’re home, then…” He murmured, smiling and fighting back a tear that threatened to break at the idea. 

Shaking his head, he pushed off the tree and stepped into the long clearcut area leading up to Ansel, soldiers on the wall noting him quickly and calling out to each other. He made a show of his hands being empty and walked calmly up the pathway to the gate, the wood and iron swinging open to two armed guards beyond it. 

“What’s your business here?” The lead one asked, a young woman with bright blue eyes, a scar along the right of her skull barely covered by her drooping, blonde bangs. “Traveler, refugee, worker, what?”

“Hm. Why hello there.” He snorted, smiling slightly at the question and shaking his head slowly before, in a low voice, answering with his head low enough the hood covered most of his face, “Traveler, you could say. Back from a long, long journey, finally headed home, in fact. Four long years, I’ve been gone, and I’m eager to finally get back.”

“Yeah?” She asked, resting the bottom of her pike on the ground below with the haft leaned against her shoulder, eyes narrowed at him, searching his hood for something. Likely anything threatening. Finally, she asked, “Where’s your home, then? I can find out when the next Bullhead is in from somewhere near there and direct you to the inn.”

“Ansel is my home.” He said simply, using the Force to flick his hood off and smiling at the woman. “Hi, Saph. How have you been since I left? I don’t remember that scar, so guess not that easy.”

“How do you know my…?” She trailed off, eyes suddenly narrowed to sharp slits, looking him up and down. He could see the gears turning in her head, feel her emotions roil suddenly with suspicion and hope intermixing into a cocktail of emotions. “No. It’s not… Not possible. Not even a little bit. W-Whoever you are, this isn’t a prank you wanna play.”

“You used to steal training swords and we’d spar in the back, under the apple tree our great grandfather planted.” He said simply, smiling pleasantly at her and bowing his head slightly. “You were older and bigger, and stronger, so I never won unless you let me. Then, we’d eat apples and go back to get yelled at by mom.”

“Jaune… Y-You can’t be...” Her pike fell and, using the Force and with a flick of his hand, he pitched it safely off the road. Then she was on him, grabbing the side of his face and turning it this way and that, looking him over like she could find the seams of the mask if she tried. He let her, the woman finally relenting and pulling him in for a hug, “Where have you been, you stupid, blonde, idiot?”

“A story I only want to tell once.” He answered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and basking in her sheer presence. Pulling away, he grinned toothily at her and added, “Let’s get home, Saph. I’m dying for a good meal, and I want to see everyone.”

“Of course.” She nodded, pulling away and turning to her partner, the young, dark skinned woman smiling at her happiness. “Terra, can you take over the watch lead? I know it’s alot, but-”

“Get him home, Saph. We’ll be fine here, don’t worry ‘bout a thing.” She said simply, turning and calling along the wall, issuing orders and letting them know the changing of the guard. 

With a shout of thanks, she grabbed his hand and started tugging him along, towards the manor. Smiling, he murmured one last thing before letting the moment wash over him, “This is where the fun begins.”

“I hate it when you mumble like that, Jaune.” She called over her shoulder, beaming a bright smile that he knew meant she was teasing. He rolled his eyes and let her drag him along, up the hill towards home.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

OH MY GOD THE MEMES. YOU PEOPLE ARE AWFUL AND I LOVE YOU ALL. XD

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Talon ibn La Ahad :

They won’t leave the planet, this temple is sequestered away. Thus the mildly tweaked take on the original Revanite ideology. However, a Sith Temple being on Remnant do imply other things. Particularly for fans of the Clone Wars series. 

Warhaven :

I plan, as it stands, for Penny to be in this. As to the Revan thing… I’d answer, but the chapter showed it. XD

Zenith Tempest :

Been sitting on the story ideas for a while, really, for this. Nervous as hell at taking on something like the Revanite ideology, but fuck it. Momma didn’t raise no bitch.

As for Axe is a Man’s Best Friend, it’s abandoned permanently now, sadly. People in the channel were uncomfortable with those sorts of commissions being related to the channel going forward, so I abandoned pursuit of them. Apologies.

Josh Spicer :

Slight correction, Jaune’s an old brand Revanite. Which as some would argue, isn’t technically a Sith Lord since Sith Lords tend to only use the Dark Side while the original brand of Revanite seeks balance between the two sides. 

Scrub Lord :

There won’t be any assassin droids, no. There are no class restrictions either, Jaune will be his own brand of Force Warrior. As for Auras and the Force, I intend to get into that later on, so… No spoilers. Same for Dust. 

Ask whatever you like, might not answer though. XD

Red Demon Eye :

Glad you’re excited. And yeah, he’s full classical Revanite. So no worries there, bro.

White Rose Shipper :

One, love the name. Two, got the gist of the Review, don’t worry. I don’t intend to fuck it up, I promise.


	3. Chapter 3

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(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“Why are you dressed like that?” Saphron asked suddenly as they climbed the hill towards Ar Manor. The Force Warrior hummed at the quiet question, and the armored woman waved a hand at him, “The robes, the hood, the… Metal pole on your back, and those absolutely ridiculous metal shoes. Those can’t be comfortable to wear, I’d imagine you feet are covered in blisters.”

“At first, yeah, they chafed something awful and hurt my feet.” He answered with a shrug, feeling a chill wind bite into him through the cloth robe he wore and, though he shivered at it, enjoying the feeling. “I adjusted, though. When it comes to the robes, though… Well, I didn’t have many options, where I got stuck.” 

“Where did you… Get stuck?” Saphron asked, always the curious one. Questioning, testing, toying, experimenting…

“I’ll get to that.” He dodged, evading the question and knowing she’d hate it. He knew she’d argue, push him for answers, and so found a way to direct her away from that. Give her something else to talk about, for now. “Why are you a soldier now, Saph? I always thought you wanted to move out to Mistral with Terra. ‘Two friends against the world on an adventure’ as you both said it.”

“I… Jaune, you have a lot of catching up to do about me and Terra.” He gave her a confused look and she snorted in amusement, shaking her head. “Nothing, nothing, I’ll tell you later.” She promised, smile slowly wasting away into a more sad, solemn one. “We were going to, but… Times are hard, around here, right now.”

“I noticed.” Even if it was barely noticeable to most, he had other ways of telling the differences. People looking ore tired, kids laughing more quietly. There was a tension and exhaustion in the air, along with a suppressed fear he didn’t understand, and the Force rippled with it. “What’s happened, Saph? What’s going on?”

“Father… When you went missing, he tried everything he could to find you, you know?” He nodded, having expected that his family would have almost since the day he was trapped. They were close knit, and if they didn’t know one of theirs had died, they’d fight tooth and nail to find out for sure or save them. “Three months of Hunts into the woods, guards sent out to search for you in Grimm filled lands, and the family pulled from Hunting contracts to do it… We lost, Jaune. Alot.”

“Damn it...” He’d known and hoped a search would be put on, for obvious reasons and more selfish ones both, but… Three months? He’d not expected that. “How badly?”

“Very.” She answered quietly, an armored hand curling into a fist beside her. “And with the loss of people, we lost workers in the mines and the fields, to replace the men and women who’d died or been wounded too badly to keep serving. I volunteered for the guard, and we’ve… Just not recovered. Terra did too.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, the woman turning an eye on him. He bowed his head, hiding under the hood, and added, “If Father hadn’t taken me out to train, I’d have never gone missing. None of this would have-”

“Finish that sentence and I will punch you so hard, I’ll feel it.” Saphron threatened hotly, the younger blonde turning to her in surprise. With a gentler smile than he’d expected, she explained simply, “You couldn’t have known what would happen, and you only ever wanted to help. To do the right thing. Be the hero. There’s no blame or shame in that not going to plan.”

“I guess… I guess you’re right, Saph.” He didn’t like it, but it made some kind of sense, end of the day. Even if his motivations hadn’t turned out quite so pure as she believed them to be, in the end. “I still feel kind of bad, though.”

“That’s… Understandable.” She forced out, sighing and shaking her head. Then, with more force than he’d expected, she clapped him on the shoulder and grinned as the western gate into Arc Manor swung open ahead of them, the guards spotting the woman and recognizing her even if he knew they didn’t recognize him. “But enough of all that shit, and being depressed about the past, you’re back! That’s what matters, baby bro.”

“I can get behind that, at least.” And that was entirely true, too, finally standing on the grounds of Arc Manor. Of home, even if it looked a bit different to how he remembered it. 

The grass was longer than they normally kept it, the paint flaking off in places, and the stone paving leading between the two sections of the building had bleached over time, weeds poking through in places. No soldiers or Hunters milled about in the gardens, like he remembered them doing, but with the loss of revenue and manpower both those things would have necessarily fallen off, and only one guard stood by at the gate as opposed to the old two that would have been there. The entire place looked older, worn down a bit by everything, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“Where’s everyone else?” He asked, waving a hand at the garden. “The twins used to play there all the time with you, Terra and Mom.”

“Mom and all the youngest went to Vale, to stay at a house owned by an old family friend who works at Beacon. Figured they’d be safer there, and they could go to school in the city.” She saw the question on his face before he spoke it and added, “Dunno who, I was on patrol when she came to Ansel and offered, and I never asked. Been too busy, and they’re being taken care of, so I’m not worried.” 

“Safer?” He repeated, turning fully to look up slightly at her face, the woman a hair taller than him. “Why wouldn’t they be safe here?”

“I’ll… Let father explain.” She said quietly, shaking her head as they climbed the steps to head into the family side of the building, the woman holding the door open for him and talking while she pulled off her cloak and armor, “He should be in here in just a few minutes, when Terra tells him what happened.”

“Will she?”

“She’s a bit of a stickler for reporting in. And you coming back?” She raised an eyebrow and turned, headed down the entryway. “Well, let’s just get something to eat while we wait, yeah? I’ve been on patrol for a while and could use a bite. You?”

“Force preserve me, yes.” He hissed, lashing out to grab her shoulders when she looked confused. “I’ve eaten nothing but protein sludge since I disappeared, Saph. Please, for the love of everything under the sun, yes, I would like something to eat.”

“Okay…” The woman blinked, leaning away from her suddenly, and he wouldn’t deny it, rather manic brother. Gently, she reached up to pry his hands off and nodded slowly, like she was afraid he’d freak out again. “Let’s, uh, let’s get something cooking. Dad’ll want food for all of us to catch up either way, so not a bother. Pork steak and mashed potatoes sound good?”

He was in heaven, he knew it.

Inside, Arc Manor was… Rustic, mainly. Heavy, wooden doors leading into simple rooms that served as entry and storage areas. Armor, cloaks, weapons, all of them could be hanged off walls or stored in little cubbies, like lockers without the door, along the four walls. Directly across from the main, more decorated, door was a second door, made of sturdier wood, for protective purposes. Theirs was a family of leaders, soldiers and Huntsman, at least for the most part, and all these attracted enemies as a rule of life. 

Beyond that was a sort of great hall, twenty feet wide and as many tall, a hearth at the furthest point from the front entryway and a wide, black couch that curved in front of it. The walls were painted a dark, wooden color meant to be as close to natural looking as possible, and covered in pictures of important Arcs in history on either side. An ever present reminder, when he’d lived here, of the expectations of his family’s name. And his father had wondered why he was so passionate and stubborn about becoming a Huntsman.

The room was divided by a long, old, sturdy oaken table covered by a thick white tablecloth, edged in gold to match the edges of the paintings. Overhead hung a heavy, bronze chandelier that sparkled as the light from the fire glanced off it, and its own lights mingled with the fractaling freely, throwing rainbows along the roof beautifully. For now, the table was bare, and the chairs were tucked under its edge all around, the most ornate of which sat at the far end of the room, back to the hearth. Heavier than the others, with solid sides rather than arms cut out of the wood, the thing wasn’t pieced together like the others had been. It wasn’t assembled. 

It was a tree, carved into the rough shape of a chair, and then lined with padding and fur for comfort. Where the head of the Arc household, man or woman, would sit for every dinner, meeting or whatever else came. 

To the right of the table was another door that, he knew, matched the front’s design. Through there one could step into the garden and head to the other side, where Hunters and the like lived, maintained their gear, and met to plan or head out for a job. Over that door, though, was a set of stairs that led up, to the second floor of the Manor’s family wing. Nothing but bedrooms and, in one corner, a modest library for Hunter information to be compiled, contracts to be stored, and whatever else his father needed it for. 

Opposite that was the door into the kitchen which, due to the sheer size of the typical Arc family, was probably three times the size of a normal one. It even had three ovens because, to quote his mother, ‘one would take me getting up at six every morning just to make lunch for all of you’. 

Why she didn’t just get cooks or something, he’d never found out. 

“Here you go, Jaune.” Saphron said a few minutes later, bringing the clearly reheated food around on two plates and setting one in front of him in a seat near the door. “Reheated from last night, hope you don’t mind.”

“Not even slightly.” He barked quickly, sounding irritable but really just wanting to get to the eating part. Which he did with gusto, shoveling some of the steamingly hot potatoes into his mouth and fighting back the groan that came with them. “Gods, Brothers and Force all, Saph, this is delicious.”

“It’s just potatoes.” She pointed out with a quiet chuckle, taking a much smaller, more reserved bite of her own steaming pile. He ignored her, taking another gluttonous bite and then grabbing a knife to start cutting the meat. “Brothers, you really didn’t have real food… Wherever the hell you were, did you?”

“No, all we had was… Well, Instructor called it ‘nutrient paste’.” He answered, pausing to take an almost unreal bite of the pork and savor it in a way he doubted he ever would have before. “Basically bugs, algae, whatever else, processed into this… Goop.”

“Ugh.”

“Exactly how I feel, Saph.” He nodded, sighing as he felt the warmth of the meal - actually hot for once in years - settle in his stomach. “I never bothered to ask about it. Kind of, you know, didn’t wanna know what it actually- Ah.” He smiled, taking another bite and setting the spoon down, “Dad’s here.”

“How do you-”

Her question was cut off by the sound of the door being thrown open, slamming back against itself as heavy footfalls carried a large man through the entryway. He’d sensed the person coming, sensed the urgency, the panic mixed with hope, and made a guess at who it would be. An educated one, of course, but a guess nonetheless, even if it turned out to be entirely correct. 

“Hello, Father.” He said politely, watching the man blink at him owlishly. With a small, unsure smile, he reached up to scratch at the side of his small beard, toying with the slight braid there, and asked, “So, uh, long time no see?”

“My baby boy!” The man’s voice boomed, arms armored still and spread wide in a rushing embrace as he thundered towards him, the smaller blonde’s eyes widening at the approaching bear of a man. “Come here and let me give you a hug!”

“Force preserve me…” Was all he could manage to think before great, metal arms engulfed him in a bone crushing hug. 

“You aren’t going to… Question me, to make sure it’s actually me?” He asked, after the man had settled into his throne-like chair and the two younger Arcs had joined him. And after Jaune had regained his ability to breathe from the exuberant hug, of course. “Saph did a little bit. I had to convince her.”

“My daughter is head of the first guard, if you convinced her then you convinced me. Besides,” the man’s great beard and moustache bristled merrily as he smiled, “I can recognize my own son, Jaune. Even if you look different, older and bearded now at such a young age, I can recognize you well enough. And again, Saphron would have never let you in here if you hadn’t convinced her completely.”

“I have to judge people coming into the settlement almost daily.” Saphron added from across the table, trying to help he was sure. “Traders, travelers, people wanting to join the ranks of the soldiers, farmers or miners, nd Hunters coming and going. You learn to tell when someone’s lying pretty well.”

“So no, not going to waste time on it. I lost enough time with my son as it is, I won’t waste more on questioning you coming home.” The man sighed in a tired way, leaning an elbow on the arm of his chair and resting his chin on the palm. Taking the moment of silence, Jaune cut off another piece of the pork, savoring it while the older man spoke, “I trust that Saphron has… Already told you about our troubles here?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, and then grimaced and started to add, “I’m sorry for everything, Father, I-”

“This fork, your nose.” Saphron threatened balefully, flicking the small silver thing into the air and catching it deftly, pointing the tips at him unambiguously. “No apologizing for what you didn’t do, got it?”

“I’m not mentioning it to start passing the blame, Jaune. Down girl, no threatening your brother.” His father assured him, a hand reaching out to press one finger against Saphron’s hand, forcing the threatening dining ware down and away from his face. “I just didn’t want you to be… Confused about it, or anything else.”

“Saph said you sent away the girls and everyone, off to Vale to be safer.” He nodded, asking after the man grimaced, “Why would they not be safe here? Three of the girls are Huntresses, aren’t they?”

“The oldest of the girls are working to pay rent and fees for the other’s classes, out of Vale. Your mother has to keep an eye on the twins, so she went with them.” He said, answering the second part of his question first. More than likely because it was the simplest, easiest one to deal with, which did not fill him with confidence for whatever would come next. “As for it not being safe here… Times are harder, now, than they were before. Less people for the work all around, means longer hours. Which douses hope and raises discontent among the people here, many of whom have no option but to stay and toil.” 

“Discontent, depression, strife, fear... “ Saphron added, stabbing her fork into her potatoes angrily. “Means Grimm coming closer, ranging in the forest nearby.”

“Which makes it hard to patrol for the men, which means it’s hard to get out and go hunting. Of the more ‘meat and hide’ varieties than the Grimm ones, at least.” His father added with a tired sigh, “I was about to head out on another purge with some of the soldiers when Terra found me, in fact. Over in the other end of the house.”

“I thought you’d already left.” Saphron grumbled, seeming embarrassed at having been wrong. Over something so simple, no less, which told him she did not enjoy being wrong about anything at all. “Or we’d have gone over there right away.”

“I wanted food anyways, so I would have wanted to come over here first.” He took a hearty bite of his potatoes for emphasis and the woman grinned, straightening her padded shirt and leaning back in her seat comfortably. 

“Just like you used to be when you were little, thinkin’ with your belly first and everything else second.” He didn’t think he’d been that way, but the way his father laughed and slapped a hand against the table, he wouldn’t argue. His dad was happy and probably latching onto memories that lined up with how he acted now, and he wouldn’t ruin that. 

“Less soldiers and patrols also means an uptick in bandits in the area.” Saphron, though, had no qualms about ruining the mood, apparently. She gave the older man an apologetic smile when he sighed, and added, “S’important, dad. He needs to know, in case something happens and he sees it.”

He’d expected that the settlement was struggling, and could even understand the closer ranging Grimm with everything that had happened, but… Bandits? He’d never thought Ansel would fall so low as to be maligned by petty banditry. It wasn’t the main one, but Ansel was an important, protected place. One of a litany of waypoints for traders, Huntsmans and even Atlesian patrols drifting by in the blue sky. 

“Why isn’t Atlas, or Vale even, helping out here?” He asked, waving a hand around them, more in reference to the settlement than the manor. Both worked, though. “We’re supposed to be allies, aren’t we?”

“The loss of resources meant I couldn’t afford damn fees for their ‘military support’. So they were forced to ‘divert forces elsewhere, to more successful ventures’.” The man sighed, stroking his messy beard with thick, meaty fingers and shuffling in his seat, the armor scraping against the wood mutedly. “Basically, we couldn’t pay their ‘support tariffs’ so they cut us loose until we could. Lien, food, a safe place for them to rest and trade, whatever. We can’t give it to ‘em, they don’t care to help.”

“But if we got Lien, we could help?” He asked simply. The man nodded, and he returned the gesture, “So, what can we do to get that?”

“We need more people and support, and to solve the low morale around the settlement.” Saphron offered, looking to her father. He nodded but stayed quiet and, taking it as an invitation, the woman went on, “We do that, the Grimm will be less attracted to the area, and we can afford to pay Atlas’ fees for their support.Or, I don’t know, contract Hunters to clear the woods.”

“We don’t have the numbers for any of it. We could move farmers into the mines, but one, they are terrible at it and untrained.” Which meant it was unsafe to do so, on one hand, and they wouldn’t get much out of it for the other. “Two, we do that and the settlement starves and withers away.”

“Why not wipe out the bandits?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. His father turned to him with a questioning look and he explained, “It just seems like that would solve a lot of problems by itself.”

“There's thirty of them, several with Hunter training.” His father dismissed with a heavy shake of his head and another exhausted sigh. “Even with the girls, your mother and the guard, we’d lose too much in a straight fight with them. “We’d need at least two teams of season Hunters to help us and not come out waiting to die off. And we’re breaking even, now, we can’t afford to hire in that many Hunters.”

“You’d have to call in another favor.” Saphron guessed, the old man rumbling an agitated response. “Let me guess… Beacon?”

“Or Haven, and Haven offers us nothing without essentially selling our land out to them. Bah!” Which, Jaune guessed from his sharp tone, was entirely out of the question. Something he could understand, really. Ansel belonged to the Arcs and the people who were good enough to work it, not a foreign headmaster. “Beacon can’t help anymore either without seeming ‘compromised’ apparently.”

“The Headmistress is helping take care of most of the family, Father. They have a bit of a point, worrying about that, while Headmaster Ozpin holds a Council seat.” Saphron pointed out dryly, the man grimacing and waving a hand to dispel the notions like a foul smell. “What do they want? The same thing they did before, I would guess.”

“Which is?” He asked, looking between them, “I’ve been out for a while, I haven’t exactly stayed caught up with the news around here, you know.”

“He wants an Arc at Beacon, but the only one here around the right age to enroll is Saphron.” His father sighed, reaching out to take the now stiff looking woman’s hand. “But I won’t let you be forced sacrifice any more for this place, Saph. You and Terra have given more than enough, and I won’t push for more.”

“I know, Dad, but if it’s that or we lose Ansel…” She smiled and let out a shaky breath, looking to Jaune as though she’d forgotten he was there. “Let’s not talk about all this heavy crap anymore, okay? Jaune just got back, and there’s nothing we can do about it anyways, so let’s just… Eat together?”

“Yes, let’s do something other than fuss over this.” The older Arc grunted, standing and turning to head towards the kitchen, “I could use a bite to eat, too, now that I think about it.”

Jaune wasn’t about to say no to getting something tasty to nibble on some more, even if he was starting to feel rather full. 

“And you,” his sister said, prodding his arm, “can tell us where you vanished off to.”

Maybe a drink, then. Something strong, if he was of age, because this would be a conversation and a half.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“The Temple is kind of a simple one, up in the mountains. Nothing special.” Considering what it had been dedicated to, at least. He’d lived there for long enough even the great statue had, eventually, grown boring and tiresome to look up at. Not that he’d ever tell the droid that, lest he get another session of ‘intensive sparring’ or ‘pain tolerance training.’ “Since I was trapped, Instructor agreed to teach me how to use the Force. As long as I worked hard and didn’t send people piling into it’s Temple, at least.”

“So no visiting, then.” His father surmised simply, Jaune nodding curtly at the question. “A shame, I’d have liked to thank him for saving you.”

“Instructor doesn’t… Do thanking people for things.” Jaune grimaced, not sure how to explain it properly. Though from his father and sister’s confused looks, he guessed that they wanted something by way of explanation about this mysterious automaton that had helped him survive what should have been a death sentence. “It helped for a benefit he saw in it, not anything else beyond that. So thanking it, far as it would care to be concerned, would just be wasted breath.”

“You can… Move things?” Saphron asked after a second of silence, the blonde nodding simply at the question. “Can you show me?”

“Alright.” He raised a hand, calling on the miniscule amount of strength he needed, and lifted a knife off the table in front of her. Mouthing ‘wow’ she reached out hesitantly to take it, and Jaune explained, “I’m not a master in it, per se, but I’m very good at it. At least the normal uses, and raw power. Anything too delicate takes more focus out of me, right now, unless I’m upset and can funnel that.”

“Emotions give you strength?”

“Emotions are my strength, Father.” He corrected gently, smiling and going on before the man could ask what he meant, “Passions of every kind, when the flare, fuel the Dark Side. And I am trained to take that and interweave it with the serene acceptance and understanding of the Light Side, the kind of energy that comes from the world around me controlled by the kind that emerges from me.”

“And it’s not a Semblance?” The old Huntsman asked, sounding… Confused and uncomfortable, in the way older people did when something new confronted their previous understandings of things. 

“No, I don’t even have my Aura unlocked.” He shrugged, Instructor had been a machine so he’d never even bothered trying to get him to do it for him. It was almost impossible that he’d have been able to, and Jaune had been busy enough as it was studying the Force. “It’s a natural ability that people are born able to use, or not. That’s what Instructor always told me, and that I was lucky to be able to use it.”

“I see, I… Think..” Jaune could tell his father couldn’t, in fact, see what he meant for sure. Less for a lack of trying or intelligence, and more for the concept being entirely foreign to him. “It’s impressive that you have such a power.”

“Useful, too.” Jaune pointed out, watching his father closely as he added in a firm voice, “I still want to be a Huntsman. A hero. And you said Beacon couldn’t help without a promise of another Arc to attend there… Where better to study being a Huntsman than the prestigious Beacon Academy?”

“You must be joking, Jaune. You… Can’t be serious.” His sister laughed, the two men turning to look at her, the wiry woman slowly shaking her head. “You just got back, Jaune. And you want to run off again?”

“I always wanted to be a Huntsman, Saph. How many people died because of that wish?” Too many, judging from the way her jaw tweaked, and her face turned into a grim scowl. A low blow, bringing up everything that had happened to sharply, but one that worked well enough to do the job. “And now, because of what happened to me, Ansel needs help. Beacon can give it, but wants an Arc to study there. I want to be a Huntsman and help Ansel recover, and to do that, I need an Academy to study at that will let me help. Beacon is the answer every way you look, Saph.”

“Is that really what you want?” His father asked quietly, in the same voice as when he’d asked if Jaune wanted to head into the forest with him. 

“Yes.” He answered simply, meeting his father’s gaze while Saphron glanced between them anxiously. The older man rumbled unsurely and Jaune added, “Four years, I’ve been training to get out of that hole. So I could see everyone again, and be a Huntsman. Save people, get the girl, all that jazz. And now, I can do it and help my family, in Vale and Ansel both, too.”

“Then, if you’re sure…” He asked a second time, to be certain, watching Jaune’s face for any reservations. The young Force Warrior nodded simply and he sighed and stood, “Very well. I’ll… Go and make a few calls, I suppose. To your mother, then to Headmaster Ozpin. After that, I’ll unlock your Aura. For defense, if nothing else.”

“Thank you, Dad.” With a small smile, he turned to Sahpron and said, “I have to do this, Saph. Everyone else has sacrificed so much for Ansel… I have to too, now. I’d love to stay here with you all, but… Ansel needs me.”

She couldn’t argue with that, instead looking down at her plate and sighing, “I guess that’s just like you, huh? Trying to be the hero even when I don’t want you to be.”

It was petulant, petty and meant to upset him, he knew. But he simply took the sting of pain that dealt to him and sent it out into the great ocean of the Force, letting it cascade away, and answered, “I have to do what I have to do, Saph.”

She’d understand, in time, he was sure.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Kitsune Robyn :

Glad you find my attempts at it well written, at the least. I try hard, and it always feels good to have a compliment like that come in. 

WillcraftNEX :

Such is, by and large, the plan. 

Kifo Sotri :

Glad you’re enjoying it so much. 

Knight Galavant :

Maybe at some point. XD

Ms. Meow :

You know Ruby will have a fit over his lightsaber. Even if it’s not also a gun.

Grenadier Megumin :

No promises. XD

Red Demon Eye :

The issue there would be the theme of Jaune’s entire drive to escape is to be a Huntsman, which are licensed and thus require that you be trained at an academy of some manner. So going nomad warrior right now would be against his motivations, and break the lore a bit. 

As for pairing… Neo is a decent option, if I decide to put in a pairing soon enough for her to be possible - pre-Fall of Beacon, I mean. But I will consider her, I can promise you that much. I like Neo as a character, she’s very - no joke intended - flexible.

Arsinis :

It isn’t. 

Talon Ibn La Ahad :

The timeline is undetermined, just after the KOTOR games mainly. As for abilities, Jaune’s will rely on natural extensions of what he learns and his own experimentation. I can, however, confirm Sith Lightning at some point. 

Because Sith Lightning.

The Wizardrous Magicman :

If he starts going inventor-ish, I may have him work up blasters of his own along similar lines. Dunno if that will be a thing, though.

Lohamigos :

He didn’t get Sith training, he got the more balanced Revanite training.


	4. Chapter 4

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“On your right!” The man called in warning, the blonde bringing his right arm up to cushion the fist, Aura flaring and sputtering weakly to protect him. Ineffectual from his lack of experience, it gave way mostly and he hissed in pain as the old, weathered fists hit home and his father sighed, sending the blonde Force Warrior staggering to the side of the grassy sparring area far too easily for his liking, “You’re not using your Aura to protect yourself, Jaune. An Aura is-”

“A Huntsman’s best defense, I know.” Jaune pointed out with a grimace, rubbing his arm where he could already feel the bruise mounting, even as the more automatic applications of his Aura kicked in to soothe and heal it. “And I’m trying to focus on it, but… It’s hard to focus on the Force around me, and the balance, and focus on my Aura too. It’s like I’m spinning plates, but they’re on different ends of a room, with strings tied so that spinning one yanks on the other.”

“I guess that would be a problem, if it’s that hard...” The other man sighed with a small shake of his head, laying the wooden longsword across his broad shoulders and shaking the stinging from his off knuckle where his punch had landed home. “Explain how usin’ the Force feels like, then.”

“Why?” He asked, instinctive suspicion borne of years of Instructors crueler training springing unwelcomely to mind immediately before he waved the man’s curious look off. “Sorry, sorry, just… Let me think, I’ve never had to explain how it feels to use the Force to someone.”

“I’ve got time, Jaune. You can bet on that, at least.” The older man grunted with a shrug, walking across the wide, grassy garden where they’d taken up their training. As much to get Jaune ready as to spend time with him, he was sure. Folding his arms, he leaned against the wall of the Manor and added, “Just lemme know when you’re ready to explain. Need to know so I can train you properly.”

“Okay.” He nodded, pacing around the garden idly while he thought, looking at old, overgrown flower beds, vined trees and the short, stubby and stubborn mountain grass connecting them. With a sigh, he sat at the base of one of those trees, head leaned back to rest against it and eyes closed. “Right here, when I close my eyes, do you know what I see? What I feel?”

“Well, uh…” He sensed the man’s confusion now, focused on the Force as he was, and heard the thick shirt he wore rustle over his skin as he probably shrugged. “I’d guess you can see your eyelids, and feel the wind blowing through? Kinda chilly this morning, actually, that, now I’m thinking about it.”

“No, I don’t see my eyelids, and I feel a little more than the wind.” He snarked with a small grin, taking the half-joke for what it was, since the man hadn’t had an actual answer. He almost cracked an eye to make sure he hadn’t offended his father, but he heard the little chuff of laughter and felt his amusement ripple around him in the Force, so he simply smiled and went on. “When I close my eyes, I see a sea of darkness around me. And for a moment I stand in it, like an island of light. Of life, which causes the light. Then as my focus deepens my attentions expand around me, and I see everything. From you, like a bright sun, to the tiniest pinpricks of grass and bugs around us. Tempests of light amid the sea of blackness around me, life made visible against the blackness of empty air.”

Part of that was him quoting the book he’d had to read over and over under Instructor’s training regimen, but it did the job regardless and the source didn’t matter as much.

“It sounds beautiful.” His father whistled, giving his head a small shake. “And the Force lets you… Move that light around, right?”

“No, that is just the Force’s acknowledgement of life. The fire that burns inside everyone, so to speak. And, uh, yeah. It’s beautiful.” It really was, seeing the sheer amount of life around him, flowing around other things in a constant drifting motion. Like the tides of the deep seas, and he sat at the bottom, looking at them set alight as though on fire to his eyes. “The Force proper is the energy of the universe itself. It… Permeates everything, from rocks and dirt all the way up to you and me, and even the Grimm.”

“And in the Force, there are two large categories for almost everything that exists.” He opened his eyes and looked at his father, raising each hand in turn as he explained, “The Light Side which is made up of justice, temperance, contentment and the lighter, more gentle things in life. And the Dark Side, passions of every kind, ambition, desire, and all the driving forces behind our decisions and beliefs.”

“Which do you use?”

“Both.” He answered simply, offering a shrug when the man’s brows knit together in confusion. How to explain this, then... “It’s hard, obtaining a balance. A Jedi cuts himself off from attachment, from passion, and lets themselves be a tool of the Force’s apparent will. A Sith does the opposite, using pain, hate and fear as a source of fuel to burn up inside him, whipping his emotions into a tempestuous force around him and cowing the Force outside of himself into obedience.” 

“So you do… What?”

“I seek a balance.” He finished simply, crossing his arms the same way his father had and relaxing on the ground. This was easy, he noted with a thought, relaxing even, to be talking about this with someone. “Jedi and Sith, self made tool and domineering bastard, if you’ll forgive the language. I am neither. I am a Revanite. I seek to let my passions drive me, make me stronger, but not control me, and I use temperance and discipline to keep me from being a mere tool, drifting in the ocean of the Force helplessly.”

“If the Force is an ocean, you’re…” He raised a brow with the next and finished, “A swimmer, maybe?”

“Yeah, and it takes a lot of concentration, too.” He pointed out, finally wrapping around to the point he’d been wanting to get to. The relaxation was nice, of course, but there was a time for that and a time for focus. “And it’s hard to maintain that kind of focus and concentrate on moving my Aura around at the same time. It’s like… I don’t know.”

“Like trying to pick up two things in one hand.” His father guessed, right on the nose as he tended to be. The man was a brute, a barrel of muscle that as much crushed and cudgled enemies with his great sword and never missed a twist or turn in a story. “You just end up fumbling both and dropping them, half the time.”

“Yeah.”

“So don’t do both, then, Jaune.” His father suggested, the younger blonde raising an eyebrow in question and reaching up to toy with his little braid idly. “Swap back and forth, as needed. If someone’s landing a lot of hits, use your Aura and let the Force go, and protect yourself until you can swap back. If it’s better to switch to the Force, do that. Like a Mechashift weapon, with range and melee, you swap between for balance.”

“Funny, Dad.” He snarked through a smirk he couldn’t fend off. 

“Eh, I thought it was clever, given how you and… All that,” he waved a hand at him, and Jaune got the reference to the Force and how it worked, even if the man evidently didn’t understand it, “works. Seems like a more balanced, swapping back and forth, setup would be more your style.”

“Maybe…”

“Try it. Just let go of the one and use the other instead.” His dad commanded gently, reaching down to pick up a rock and bouncing it meaningfully on his palm. Jaune watched it bounce for a second, knowing the threat behind it, before he met his father’s amusement filled eyes. “Whenever you’re ready, Jaune. You wanted to be a Huntsman, remember?”

“Yeah…” He sighed as he stood, giving the man a small shake of his head, “No one mentioned the ‘getting pelted with rocks’ part, but whatever. Let’s go.”

It took five tries, his father ‘gently’ pitching the rocks at his arms, before the idea worked. The trick, it turned out, wasn’t, as his father had thought initially, to let go of the Force. No, that proved impossible, he was too attuned to the shifting tides, ebbs, and flows inside the ocean of the Force’s power and size. If he was a swimmer treading water in the ocean he found himself in, using and directing the flow by ‘swimming’ through it and letting the tides shift in answer, then ignoring the Force was like ignoring the ocean and not swimming. Not treading the water at all, and instead sitting still in it, like he wasn’t adrift at all. 

Each time time he tried, it was as though he were drowning, the tempests around him barraging his mind and the ocean around the tempests of life threatening to drown him. To drag him down to the deep, dark, and leave him there to suffocate under the water and be crushed under the pressure. So he couldn’t ignore it, it was simply not feasible, and left several little, red welts on his arm from the coaching rocks thwacking into his flesh from across the garden.

Instead, he forced his mind to still utterly in the void of the Force, emptied it of any more complicated emotions beyond basic instincts, and sat back from the Force. Watching, but not interacting beyond that, let him keep his head above the proverbial waterline. And, calm and relaxed, when the rock came in for the last time, his Aura sparked in response to his instinctive reaction to not want to get pelted by a rock, and the little stone bounced away from him. 

“You got it! Good work, Jaune.” His father crowed, sounding genuinely ecstatic that his son had succeeded. Partially, Jaune was sure, because he was getting weary of pelting the young man with rocks. “Now, however you got it to work, you have to learn to get into that mindset and stay there constantly. Hardest part of Hunter training, that.”

“Then I need to meditate.” He sighed tiredly, rubbing his bruised arm and giving his father a grimace. The other man gave him a half-confused look and Jaune sighed at it, knowing his father had a lot of adjusting to do and, fully aware of it, immaturely wanting him to just get over it already. “I have to meditate to coach myself and condition my mind. Get used to calling on that mindset at will. Just like when I call on the Force’s twin sides, and balance them.”

“What do you need to do that?” The man asked, putting aside his curiosities on how any of it worked and simply trying to make it work. 

“Peace, quiet, and somewhere to sit.” He answered simply, waving a hand at the garden and adding, “This place will do. It’s quiet enough, peaceful enough, and lively enough for me to connect to both sides of the Force and find the balancing point for my meditation. Aside from that… I just need time, to build up the mental state and practice calling it up at will.”

“Alright.” the man grunted simply, pushing off the wall and giving him a nod. “I’ll tell the guards not to bother you and let you get to it. I, uh…” The man gave an awkward smile and, attuned to the Force around them, Jaune sensed an odd anxiety and doubt within him before he finally said, “Love you, Son.”

“Love you too, Dad.” He said quietly, watching the man awkwardly shuffle before, finally, he turned and left. In the quiet left behind, Jaune wondered for a moment where the anxiety and doubt had come from, and why his father had felt it. Then, he closed his eyes and sat, taking a deep breath before finally letting his mind unfetter and flow away. 

He had work to do.

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“Now,” his father started the next day, after he’d spent enough time meditating and needed down time from it to rest his mind from that end of the spectrum, “you want your little… Vacation spot to stay a secret, yeah?”

“One, I would not call being trapped under a mountain for nearly half a decade to be trained by a sadistic robot any kind of a vacation, Dad.” The older blonde simply shrugged and Jaune smirked in return, scratching his chin idly as they walked towards the door into the Hunter side of the manor. “Two, yes. I would like to keep it a secret.”

“Why?”

“I… Have my reasons, Dad. Just trust me, okay?” The last thing he wanted was every Tom, Dick and Hairy trying to get down to Instructor to learn how to do all this. The sheer power and inherent risk of corruption would mean another war, and he’d read how destructive the Sith Wars had been. Less Force users meant less risk, so he would follow that logical line to the end. “Why do you ask? Have an idea for that?”

“Yep, I do. You need a Huntsman’s weapons and armor, to blend in.” He answered simply, pulling open the door to the manor and waving him in, the warmth of the manor rushing out of the open door like it wanted to fight the early morning, mountain chill that always swept down into Ansel from the surrounding heights. “So let’s see what the old armory has still, after everything that’s gone down.”

Inside, the layout of the manor’s architecture other side was basically the same as the other half’s. Upstairs would be numerous bedrooms and bathrooms for Hunters to rest, get cleaned up and so on, with the addition of one of the corner rooms being retrofitted into an impromptu clinic room. He wasn’t sure of the layout - he’d never really been in there when he was younger, and even if he had it would probably have changed over time - but he knew as much as that it was meant to treat and heal up Hunters coming in from a bad field trip. The corner opposite it, the size of two bedrooms and shaped like a ‘V’ in the corner, was the familial armory. Weapons, armor and the ability to make and customize both were stored there, along with historically important weapons and equipment leftover from Arc Hunters past.

As much of that as there ever was, when one died in the field, of course...

The bottom was, as in the other section, divided between a cooking like the family one ever since the redesigns and the sitting area, with a hearth set into the back. Instead of being designed for family gatherings, though, it had been laid out closer to a cafeteria, or a tavern in the books Jaune remembered reading as a kid. A dozen tables in two lines of six, each one round and made of the same dark wood as the building around them. 

Once, Jaune remembered sneaking into here to see the Hunters in their bright colors and fancy weapons, entire teams of grizzled veterans and laughing teams of greener men and women. Out looking for adventure. 

Just like he had been, when he went into that forest…

“Jaune?” His father’s words shook him out of the moment, before he could get lost in the memories and nostalgia, and the man stepped in front of him. Taking up his entire vision, the older man laid a hand on his shoulder and asked, “Are you okay, son?”

“Yeah, just…” He sighed and waved a hand at the room morosely, “It’s sad, seeing it like this. It was so vibrant and exciting as a kid, and now it’s just empty. Lifeless. I can sense the vibrancy that was here, it’s so ingrained into the Force, and now that it’s gone I feel… Sad.”

Even the chairs were up on the table, looking like they hadn’t been used in a long time.

“We’ll fix it.” The man promised, resting a hand across Jaune’s shoulders and guiding him around through the room. “We visit the armory, get you kitted out, and when Beacon’s Headmistress gets here with your mom and the girls, we can start-”

“Mom’s coming back?” He asked, ambient sadness suffusing the Force pushed aside as childish excitement overtook him like a storm, “A-And she’s even bringing the girls? B-But how, it’s the middle of semester!”

“Heh, did you really think I wouldn’t tell your mom you were home? And that something silly like school would keep your sisters from coming to see you?” The man snorted at the idea and shook his head, “Though, uh, she said she’s bringing a blood test.”

“A… Blood test?”

“To make sure you’re who you say you are, I guess. Your mom has always been the paranoid on, haha… Yeah.” The man shrugged after the weak laugh, giving Jaune the distinct impression he agreed with the test idea. 

“I don’t mind.” He finally shrugged simply, stepping past the larger Arc an into the room at large. “It makes sense to run a blood test, I guess. And honestly? I’m just looking forward to seeing everyone, again, so no big deal.”

He’d thought it would have to wait until the end of the academic year at the very least, and had been planning to get his dad to set up a video call with them that evening. But if they were coming here to see him? He could feel his excitement reverberating through the Force around him at the thought.

A little prick and a blood test was nothing to get in the way of that.

“That’s my boy! If you ain’t got nothing to hide, you ain’t got nothing to worry about, right?” His father clapped him on the shoulder again, which earned a wince from him but little else, and then strode on purposefully like nothing had happened. “Now c’mon, we gotta get you geared and training. I have a lot of catchin’ up to do.”

“Catching up?” He caught after a second, smiling thinly and sadly at the man’s back and calling out, “You don’t have to make up for anything, you know?”

“I… Well then.” The man stilled, halfway across the room and leaning on a table. Then he turned and gave Jaune a small, knowing smile, “Agree to disagree, Jaune. Some tin man trained my boy for four years more than I got to, and next year you’re headed to Beacon to get Ansel back up and running, so I have to try extra hard to get as much time as I can with you.”

“Sure.” He sighed, “Agree to disagree. Now, a weapon and armor?”

“Of course!” The old man nodded, excited like a child headed to open presents for his birthday. An infectious sort of energy that Jaune couldn’t keep from stretching an excited grin across his own face in response. “C’mon, let’s get you kitted out. I already picked out some gear and a weapon for you. You like to run light, right?”

“Yeah.” He’d only ever fought in his robes, after all, even if he did want to eventually wear heavier protection. “Why?”

“You’ll see.” His father grinned as they started to climb the stairs, almost cheshire looking in the dimness of the building, most of the lights left off since no one needed them aside form the warm backlighting along the edges of the walls, casting the wide room in orange hues and long shadows. 

Inside, Jaune remembered the armory being lined on both sides with every manner of weapon imaginable, right and left both full to the brim. On the right had always gear, stowed by Hunters resting for the night to head out the next day. Now, those lockers were dusty, and the hangers, holsters and tables for setting weapons on and maintaining them were all unused save the closest on to the left side. The side Jaune saw his father’s sword resting on a wall hanger on it, in a long line of more classical, Arc weapons. 

Many Hunters tended to use versatile, mechashift weapons. Jacks of all trades made of metal and Dust powered fury, swung by people who fought in the same way. The Arc family, though, was one of the few that preferred more specialised, classical weapons. Crocea Mors was an important family artifact and it hung in the Hunter’s Hall below, for instance, after its service in the Great War, and it was only a longsword and kite-shield.

Spears, handaxes, waraxes, swords of a dozen Valean varieties and more lined the outside wall. Each clean and polished, likely by his father now that the girls were off in Vale, as though they were new and just waiting on the day they were taken out to fight Grimm and protect people again. In between the two walls was a wide work table to maintain the weapons, with tools and rags scattered across it from use.

On the other side of that, though, was a suit of polished and pristine looking armor. Thick leather, fingerless gloves and boots that climbed up halfway to his knee, all backed in plated silver steel edged in dull and ruddy bronze to protect the outward surfaces. Both those were old and repaired, evidenced by scars on the metal and leather both. Like wounds dotting an old warrior’s body, telling tales of what he’d been through.

The torso was a light breastplate, made of thin, plated steel embedded into thick and sturdy leather. Over his shoulders were small, leather pauldrons, added padding to catch claws and blades in instead of his flesh and bone beneath. Little clasps shaped like the Arc symbol were stitched into the connection between the leather pauldrons and the leather cuirass. From those a hooded, dark blue traveling cloak flowed, almost to the point where his knees would be.

“Light, Dust enhanced and stitched leather armor topped with Dust infused Silver-Steel plates.” His father explained when he caught Jaune staring, grinning at the mildly embarrassed expression the young Force warrior wore when he looked at him and knew he’d been caught out. “The armor will fit right over your robes, and the dark blue of the cloak will match pretty well too.”

“I like it.” It would protect him without hindering his movement, at least… And he’d actually get to wear real shoes, too. Raising a hand to rest on the cool steel, he asked, “You said there was a weapon, too?”

“Yep.” He turned when he sensed something in the air coming towards him, and hand snapping up to grab the haft of the weapon he’d been thrown. “Figured you used a staff looking thing, and you said it had blades yesterday, so… Thoughts?”

The weapon was another polearm, like his, with a long wooden haft about three feet in length and bound in aged looking leather, a round piece of iron on the bottom for counter-balance. At the end of the haft, on top of a rounded bronze guard, a long blade added another foot to its length. It was double sided, chipped on one of them, and clearly as old as it was dangerous. He bounced it in his grip and spun it around his palm to test the weight and balance, grinning in satisfaction at it. 

“I like it.” The young blonde said quietly, other hand snapping up to catch the short sheath that came with it, sliding it on while he spoke, “You were doing this all yesterday while I was meditating, weren’t you?”

“I’m glad you like it-”

“Saphron is coming.” He said suddenly, cutting the man off and narrowing his brows in worry. “And she feels… Anxious, frightened, angry and confused. Looking for you, Dad, and in a hurry.”

“Saphron was on gate duty today…” The man straightened, all humor vanishing in an instant as he considered what Jaune had said. Laying a hand on his shoulder he talked quickly, the words rushing out in a torrent, “We need to get armored up, Jaune. And quick.”

“Why?”

“If Saphron is looking for me, and she’s upset like you say…” The man grimaced and gave a shake of his head and a sigh, “Means we have a fight coming to us. Grimm or those damn bandits, but I won’t know until I get there. Are you up for a fight?”

“If I have to be, yes. I can fight, even if I end up using my ‘saber instead of my polearm.” He nodded, and the grim way his father nodded told him that was probably a fact. It was like the Force was intent on screwing him at every turn, he could swear... “Help me get my armor on, then. It’ll be faster if you do, I don’t know how to yet. I’ll go talk to Saph and we’ll meet up at the front gate.”

“Sounds like a plan.” The man agreed, either because they couldn’t argue or he didn’t see a reason to, Jaune couldn’t be sure. 

“Grimm.” The words left her mouth as soon as Jaune came around the corner into the courtyard outside with his new weapon in his hand and his saber on his back, between the cloak and his armor. Around her, the interior gate-guards anxiously exchanged glances and hovered close enough to keep up with what was being said. “Beowolves, chased a Hunter in. She said her partner stayed behind to buy her time, but the woman is panicked and hurt. Where’s Dad?”

“Up in the armory, getting dressed.” If the Huntress had been panicking and upset, even understandably so, on her way back in then they’d sense the panic and track it. Like a wolf with a scent, quite obviously. “He said he’d meet us at the gates no matter what. What’s the plan?”

“We stab them all as they climb the wall.” She shrugged, gesturing with her long spear meaningfully towards the gate. “Let’s go, Bro. Hope you’re ready to kill some Grimm, because we’re about to have some.”

He was, he was sure of it. He’d fought against Instructor countless times, and killed Grimm as well on his way home. But that surety didn’t keep him from being at least a little bit nervous about the whole ordeal.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Yey, I got sick again~!

Only effect that it had on this chapter was that I pushed the fight with the Grimm into NEXT chapter. It was that or delay it a day, and honestly, next chapter ends the training and equipping arc up regardless. 

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Rogue Hunter X :

Think Grey Jedi, but more driven and outgoing. Like, the difference is in that grey tend to be reclusive, and Revanites tend to be more outgoing and passionate. And yeah, it’s a hard stance to maintain, to keep up and running the way that a Revanite needs to. Which is part of why, later down the line, the Revanite 

The rest of my response is ‘Yeah, I’m a world building whore, basically.’ XD

Adislt :

Details above~

Lord Troy :

Higher tier Padawan in strength, he’s still practicing and getting experience in all this.

Wizardrous Magicman :

I have certain tech based ideas I am toying with, but I doubt sincerely that he’ll be laying mines as a main thing. Great for an RPG, but in practical senses, there’s not a lot of times you’d want to mine an area and there’s the issue of, you know, carrying all those mines. Star Wars has some solutions, there, yeah, but that would require him directly getting/making Thermal Detonators.

Commando Squirrel :

Jaune didn’t learn how to make Droids, no. However, it is still possible he may gain some technical skill, going forward, in mechanical engineering. Or something else.

Lohamigos :

Those are all abilities, yes, but there’s two problems. Firstly, and most simply, those are all advanced abilities that Jaune wouldn’t have had time to learn as of yet. He’s strong, but he’s not skilled yet, so more advanced abilities are beyond him. Secondly, as he states in the chapter itself, he doesn’t want too much attention on him for several reasons. Not the least being what would happen if one side grew too powerful and started a war against the other side. 

Remnant has enough problems with, as he said, a Sith War.

Also, he needs an Aura to be a Huntsman, since you have to be licensed to be a Huntsman and that requires attending combat schools and academies. Which hold sparring sessions and monitor Aura to know when to call a fight.

Zenith Tempest :

Jaune will be combat capable and skilled form the getgo, yes.

Will Craft NEX :

I hope it is a good story, yes. And his Semblance will likely be the canon one if only to avoid an over complication in character threads. His big thing, after all, is his Force abilities, so his Semblance is kinda meh as far as points go.

Doctor Lithon :

All that is, partially, planned actually. This is not even the true beginning of his story, after all, this is merely the prologue. He will change and grow as time goes on.

P :

Actively avoiding it as I go, don’t worry. Hence the ‘can’t use Aura and Force’ nerf, for instance.

Yinko :

He has a good reason. He nearly died and wa strapped for four plus years because he wanted to be a Huntsman. He fought, trained, cried and suffered to get out so he could do that. It would be against his character, as it stands, to not go out to be the Hero he went into the forest wanting to be. 

Jaune says it himself. How many people died because of his dream, just for him to consider abandoning it?

Sigma-del-Prisium :

Considered Crocea Mors, but he’s not exactly trained in sword and shield combat. He’s more a polearm user, so I gave him something along those lines instead.


	5. Chapter 5

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“She said we should have fifteen minutes, Jaune.” Saphron explained as they jogged, her armor clanking and his clothing whipping behind him as they went. Climbing to the top of the wall, soldiers in armor and sporting spears parted to let them by on their way to their positions. “We form up here, receive their attack, withdraw to the main wall if we have to. Either way, the Grimm won’t stop until they’re all dead. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Not really, but I have power and this is my town. I’m not letting the damn Grimm lay a claw on it.” He answered simply, using the Force to call his saber around and into his hand, spinning the staff a couple times to feel the weight of it and then nodding. Turning to the woman he said simply, “I need to meditate before the battle. Attune myself to the Force and suffuse my equipment in it, make it part of me. Do you need my help setting up the defense?”

“No, you do your stuff.” He nodded and she turned, shouting orders to soldiers around her, and he stepped back and away. 

Sitting to the side of the path between the farms, he laid the staff across his knees and let his eyes close on the scene before him. Behind him, he could sense the people in the settlement who couldn’t, or for whatever reason wouldn’t, join the Guard and fight the Grimm. Children, the old, the wounded, those who hadn’t trained for the duties needed or simply lacked the temperament for it, all herded towards Arc Manor with the best tenth of the Guard that lived in Ansel. 

He felt their fear, saw the way that tempest wafted above the settlement like thunderclouds over the great ocean of the Force. Below, treading the water of the Ocean, he hissed as the waves kicked up around him threatened to overwhelm him and drown him, drag him beneath their panic, fear and everything else and drown him in it.

With a breath, he focused that essence, that storm, into one hand. The Dark Side answered his call as readily as a servant to his master’s, crackling through him with a feeling like fire and lightning under his skin. Fire and lightning he held in his hand, the heart of the great storm incarnate, burning and crackling to be free but trapped within his will and mind. Or rather, contained in it. Like a lightning rod for a storm’s strike, or a hearth for a roaring fire.

But he could not contain it on his own, not for long anyways. He needed a controller for it, and so looked for the Light.

He reached and, within the tempest stirring to life throughout Ansel and setting his own fire burning in his heart, found the Light he needed. The courage of the soldiers who, trembling in instinctive fear ahead of a Grimm assault, stood their ground yet. Each of them, to the very last, stood as bastions in the storm as islands in the ocean. Unaware of the storm, the islands stood, but stood against it regardless like the soldiers arrayed before Ansel stood against the hurricane howling of the Force tempest around them. Bastions of calm, the eyes of a million hurricanes, and he seized on them and his own calm core, deep inside where his surety of purpose sat.

That he held in his other hand, bringing the two together and letting the cool calm of the two sides of the coin rage and cool in equal measure and changing turns. 

“Grimm incoming! Grimm incoming!” He heard the cry of warning a second before the staccato rifle fire began cracking along the line and he opened his eyes, looking up on the two rows of defenders. 

Riflemen behind spearmen, the former gunning down the monsters while the former prepared to brace against their charge. Inside a minute, the riflemen began ducking back as the Grimm leapt for them and the spearmen began the desperate job of fending them off, a woman over the gate tumbling towards the ground below with a startled cry as a dying Grimm batted her back. 

Using the Force, he lifted himself from the ground and shoved himself forward, using the momentum to break into a run while his staff came around his off side for him to catch. His free hand lashed out and, like burst of wind blowing her up and away from the ground, the woman’s arms snapped out and she grunted almost inaudibly in the noise around them, stilling a few inches above the ground before dropping with a metal thud as he reached her, gave her a smile, and leapt with a thwump of Force hurling him up.

A Beowolf met him, red eyes looking into electric green, and his hand lashed out, a cannon ball of Force energy caving its chest in and hurling it back towards its packmates as he landed above the gate. Lightsaber hissing to life, he met the next leaping Grimm’s face with the heated plasma, boiling bone and flesh back and away as the dead thing tumbled to the ground beyond the gate. A man beside him cried out as a Grimm grabbed his arm, other holding the wall and pulling itself over, and he swung without bothering to look. The Grimm fell back with a bestial whine of pain and the man staggered away, the next slash beheading the enraged Grimm before it could act.

All down the line, spears reached down to the base of the wall, stabbing at lupine Grimm that snapped and frothed, lashing at the weapons to try and get through or simply leaping and hoping it would work out. Most of the time, he saw rifle fire cut them down, sending their corpses into the wall and tumbling to their fellows below. Occasionally, faster and further than he could even use the Force to intervene, the Grimm would get a hold of the wall or a defender. In the former case, men gave room and pulled axes or picks taken from the base of the wall to beat them back. 

In the latter case, men and women struggled to hold their fellow and kill the beast, and usually both fell to the other side of the wall, disappearing under Grimm there. 

A Grimm a few feet down leapt at the wall and his hand lashed up, Force pushing the monster to the side and away before it could land. Turning the other way when he sensed the bestial intent, he did the same for another Grimm. But he couldn’t keep up, lashing out as he was, even when he collapsed his saber and used both hands, lashing out again and again to deflect the attack until his arms trembled from the effort. 

“Agh!” He turned at the shrill, pained cry, hand coming up as fury and defiance welled up on each side of the Force to lash out, and felt both sides chill like the blood in his veins. 

Saphron, spear falling away while her hands clutched at the maw of the Grimm on her shoulder, blood flowing past the holes teh Alpha had punched in her armor. It wrenched to the side and the woman screamed again, tossed back and away from the wall. She landed on the ground in a pile of metal, torn cloth, and flowing blood. 

Her arm landed at Jaune’s feet, while the Grimm brought an arm up to defend against the mighty, cleaving strike from his father’s great sword. It batted the weapon aside and turned, claws sweeping up for his throat, and Jaune lashed out at him. With a sound like wet wood cracking and popping, the Grimm’s arm snapped back on itself, the monster fighting the Force for a moment before its other arm and leg joined it. Head resting on its chest, the Grimm’s red eyes met his for a brief moment.

And then he crushed it into a ball the size of Jaune’s chest, which he hurled towards the forest at hurricane force.

Turning to the onslaught of Grimm he bellowed, both arms lashing forward as the Dark Side rushed through him. Rage, pain, a thirst for revenge as sure as his thirst for water and air, all rushed through him and dispelled the ethereal calm the Light Side suffused him with. In a wide arc in front of him, the Grimm were hurled back by the raw power, a wide cone of stunned monsters and cleared ground ahead of the gate. 

“Jaune, wait-!”

Without hesitation, he brought his foot to the top of the wall and leapt, hurtling high into the air with the fury of the Force. Then he hurtled down with the force of an asteroid coming to ground, slamming into the ground and using the Force to protect himself in a cocoon of power before bursting that bubble and hurtling the stone around him out and away. Like shrapnel from a bomb, the stone, Grimm plating, even the Grimm themselves hurtled away in a withering shower the sent a hundred Grimm into their demise. 

Rising, he slid his left leg back and brought his staff up, spinning on the palm of his hand in front of him as the saber flickered to double-ended life. 

A Grimm, one arm hanging lim and covered in rocks, staggered up and hissed a snarl at him as he closed with it, before his saber beheaded it. Using the Force, he hurled it back and into the presence of another Grimm, crushing it under the other’s weight and force, while his saber lashed out to his right and bisected a leaping young Beowolf from shoulder to shoulder, blasting the remnants aside and moving to the next. An armored, Alpha Beowolf, covered in broken spines, chipped armor and freshly bloodies wounds, the creature limped toward him and swiped ineffectually with its good arm. 

An arm he used the Force to snap aside, crushing the Grimm into the ground until it died, adding its smoke to that already choking the air.

“Jaune D’Arc, you hold still!” His father grabbed his free arm, intelligently avoiding the one holding the saber, and spun him to face him. “Look around you, boy!”

Grabbing his hood he used it to hold the boy close and steered him to look back towards Ansel while the soldiers fanned out around them, stabbing and shooting the dying Grimm around them, peppering the few still able to fight until that fact changed. All along the smaller palisade wall rocks, bone spikes and plates and scattered, broken armor had been imbedded in the wood. In places, entire Grimm had smashed through the wood, leaving Beowolf sized chunks missing from the defensive architecture. 

Holes that let him see beyond, where more of the same could be seen littered yards of dirt, stone and the fields. He only saw one or two men impaled on the shrapnel, but he knew more would have been, and that sent his fury rushing away like water down a drain. 

“I-I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to-” He blinked and turned, saber hissing closed as his stomach plummeted and his meal from earlier came rushing back up. He’d killed people, and not even intentionally… Not even for a reason, but instead because he’d been angry. Kneeling in the dirt, he stared at the ground, “I didn’t mean to. I was just so… Angry.”

“Is this what the Force does without training?” His father asked, kneeling and resting a hand on his son’s back. Blue eyes met blue and Jaune nodded, the older man grumbling under his breath. “Damnit… Then you have to go somewhere to learn to fight. Somewhere equipped to deal with... “ The man sighed and waved a hand at the destruction around them, “This kind of damage.”

“I know.” One of a thousand reasons to go to Beacon. .But, straightening, he ignored that entirely and asked instead, “Where’s Saph? Is she okay? Is she… Safe?”

“Well, it seems that, in your anger, you… Probably saved her life.” The man sighed, patting the young blonde on the back a couple of times and standing. Jaune rose with him and, jerking a thumber over his shoulder, the man grunted, “Let’s go and check on her, eh? Get her to the clinic room so we can deal with our jobs. Later, we can go and spend some time with her. Alright?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, Force calling the saber back to his hand so he could return it to his back. “I, uh, I think that’s a good idea.”

Three hours passed before the wounded had been helped, the immediate damages were dealt with, and the forest had been cleared of smaller clusters of Grimm coming in. Every fight between settlement militias and the Grimm, people would be hurt, property would be damaged and lives would be lost. 

Which meant all manner of dark, negative emotions emanating out in the aftershocks of the battle, luring wayward Grimm in from further away than whatever had attracted them initially tended to. And besides that, he and his father had hoped to find the dead Hunter that was the partner of their wounded guest, to no avail. 

All they found was a broken shoulder-guard and a third of an axe handle, the rest all missing, after which they turned for home.

“Saphron will be alright, Jaune.” His father rumbled from ahead of them as they walked, greatsword resting across his shoulders and head swiveling as they walked. He shrugged and added, “Well, not alright, but she’ll live. Losing limbs is… Not that rare, you know.”

“I could have protected her if I was stronger.” Should have, along with the rest of them. Instead he’d killed three of his own people, even if, admittedly, on accident. His father turned his head enough to meet his eye and he vowed solemnly, “I will get stronger, until so that doesn’t happen any more.”

“Good. The goals you’ve set in life require that much, and while what happened to her isn’t your fault, being stronger could prevent it in future. And keep you from the mistakes you made...” The man rumbled, sighing after a second and speaking again in a lower voice, once he’d thought about what he’d said. “I’m sorry, Jaune, I’m… Not good at consoling people. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know, Father.” The man was not the consoling type, more suited for fighting than coddling or caring, even if he was a loving father at heart. He remembered that being the case and, as the saying went, distance made the heart grow fonder. “I… I know it wasn’t my fault, even if it doesn’t make me feel better right now.”

“I sense a ‘but’ there.” His father pointed out, stopping in the overgrown path and turning to look at him. “I’m hoping for a good one, somewhere in there.”

“I know that, when kids are growing up, their Semblances can be… Unstable.” He heard stories all the time, and even saw it first hand from a couple young Hunters that had been passing through. A young Faunus who could ignite things with his Aura, constantly setting things on fire accidentally and needing to be taken care of by his partner. “The Force is… I’m not a Master in it, so it’s a similar thing. I lashed out, lost control, and… And people got hurt.”

“And it wasn’t your fault.” His father agreed with a nod, watching him carefully. “You understand that?”

“Yeah, I do.” It didn’t make him feel better, not yet, but he knew it would. Quietly, the younger blonde chuckled at a memory before he saw his father’s concerned look and sighed, “Instructor used to say that ‘People get hurt and die in combat, always remember that. Your fault, their fault, whatever the case. Dwelling on it is wasteful, moving forward honors them, so the choice is easy’.”

“That isn’t all that funny…”

“He used to say it ahead of sparring training, when we talked about my future.” Which meant bruises, cuts and worse, which had been hell at the time. Now? It was strange, the power of remembering something from the past. “I feel… Sick, when I think about what happened, but I’ll get over it.”

“Are you sure, Jaune?” His father asked, obvious concern in his voice and weathered face. “Because I’d understand if you weren’t…”

“Yeah, I am.” It would be a waste not to, after all. Being sad wouldn’t bring them back to life, and it could end his life. He’d recover if only to work towards protecting Ansel, the thing they’d died to do. “It’ll just take time, Dad. That’s all. I’m good at accepting bad things and trying to get past them.”

“I bet… Given the whole ‘trapped under a mountain with a killer robot’ thing.” He nodded and turned, leading the blonde young warrior back to Ansel once again. “Come on… Your mother is going to kill me tomorrow.”

Jaune snorted, because he knew his father was right.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Saphron slept the rest of the day and night away, which Jaune found pretty understandable with everything she’d been through. The Huntress from before had activated her Aura and stopped the bleeding, so all that was left was for her Aura to heal her up, as little Aura as Saphron ended up having. Once they were certain Saphron would be okay, the Hunter had retired to their room to rest and grieve for their lost partner, and hadn’t come out save to get food since. 

Jaune didn’t understand her feelings all that well, entirely due to not having a partner yet, but his father had ordered meals delivered and left them alone. Now, they were sitting outside, Terra across from them, looking exhausted, worried, but as much on the mend as Saphron herself was.

“She’s tired, and sore, but she’s okay enough, now.” Saphron explained, sitting across the hall from them, beside the door into the room. She took a drink of her chilled water and screwed the cap on, pressing it against her head to ward off the oncoming headache. “Two more days, we would have hand Hunters here, and this wouldn’t have happened…”

“Nothing we can do for it now but to live with it.” His father grunted, as much to the young woman as to Jaune himself, he would wager if pushed to make a bet. Which, as bad as he felt about his being gone and ‘causing’ the situation, was a fair outreach for his father to make. “How is she… Dealing with it?”

“The arm’s loss, you mean?” She glanced to the man and he shuffled awkwardly, so Jaune answered for him.

“Yeah, the… Arm thing.” Finding a way to talk about this was already weird, even for him. “Is she, you know, okay?”

“About as well as can be hoped for, really.” She sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She pointed a finger at the two of them and scowled a bit before she added in a low, reproachful voice, “And don’t talk about it like that. She’s upset as hell, and that will only make it worse.”

“Your mother will be here in a little over an hour, so… Yeah.” His father pointed out quietly, waving a hand at the door in front of them. “You go on first, visit with her. I’ll go second, since your mother might be here by then and she will want to visit her and rip me a new asshole.”

“And you want to use me to distract the girls, while you use Saphron to hide from mom.” He guessed, the man smiling sadly but roguishly nonetheless. Like a man caught in mischief, but irreparably sad regardless of the fun he was having. With a theatrical sigh to play to the game, Jaune stood and shrugged, “Fine, you big coward. I’ll be your shield.”

Though actually doing that was somewhat harder than he would admit. Even with all his power and the Force, he was still scared to see his sister laid up in a bed… Pathetic or just normal enough to be a good thing, he couldn’t be sure which.

Both? Both were good.

He chose both.

“Hey, Jaune.” His sister’s tired voice reached him before he’d even shut the door, the exhausted looking woman laying against the wall opposite the door. 

Her torso was bare under the sheet, he knew, and covered in bandages he could see even now around her shoulders. Several more wrapped around her free arm and a thick one around her head, injuries suffered after she’d fallen from the wall. 

Still, she smiled when she saw him, and asked in a tired voice, “How, uh, how is everything? Is the forest clear?”

The only bed in the room was hers, at the moment, even though three could fit. And it had been set against the wall and turned, so her bandaged right shoulder laid close to the wall, the machine monitoring her vitals and the intravenous bag at the head of her bed, keeping their vigil and managing her pain throughout the nought and morning. 

A curtain hung against the wall a little under ten feet to his right held the rest of the supplied the room would have, and he caught a glimpse of the metal frames and mattresses of the other two beds, stacked for storage. To his right, a floor to ceiling cabinet had been put in the corner, full of medicine, tools and everything else shut behind thick, heavy metal doors to protect what was inside should a Grimm get in somehow. 

“It’s fine, Father and I cleared the woods. The Grimm are gone, I could… Sense if they weren’t, and if we missed any, we’ll cut them down.” There’d been a few small packs, but she didn’t need to hear that. They’d been butchered easily enough by the duo. 

Taking a seat beside her on the little, metal stool that had been left, his hand snapped out and stool hers, the woman squeezing the anxiety out of it reassuringly. The two sat like that for several minutes, the clock on the wall by the door ticking loudly and the machine beeping and whirring, the only sounds in the room while they sat together. The silence was, however, not an awkward one, even if the atmosphere choked with the sorrow of the battle and its losses.

“I can feel it, you know.” He finally spoke, fifteen minutes into the silence, finally breaking it. 

“Feel…?”

“The loss.” He held up his right arm to make the point and she grimaced, sad blue eyes meeting exhausted ones meaningfully. “I felt it be severed, felt the shock. And now, I can feel your emotions, like a storm whirling around you for the sacrifice forced onto you by those… Monsters.”

“I… You have a hell of a way with words, you know that?” He nodded but didn’t speak, watching her with soft eyes and waiting. She knew it too, turning to scowl up at the ceiling and squeezing his hand hard enough his Aura flared to protect him. “It hurts like you wouldn’t believe. I don’t even have the damn arm, but it feels sore. Pins and needles, like my arm fell asleep.”

“It’s normal.” Instructor had plenty of books on amputations, Sith warriors tended to need prosthetics often enough. 

“I hate it! All I wanted to do was protect my town, and this is what I get!” She seethed, snapping at him and as quickly as the words left her mouth regretting it, turning to stare up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily. “I-I’m sorry, Jaune. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I-I just… I don’t know.”

“‘Passion can break thy chains as easily as forge them, shackling you to rage and sorrow’.” He quoted, smiling apologetically when the woman gave him a confused look, mixed with the odd suspicion she was being insulted. “Revanite proverb. It means that when out emotions fly and run wild, we do and say things we wouldn’t normally. Things that should be ignored by those who hear them.”

“Ah…” She nodded and relaxed, shoulder slumping and head flopping against the pillow weakly. “I like it. Kinda like poetry.”

“Much of my teachings were like that.” Poetry, if rigid and self-righteous at times, but enjoyable and insightful regardless. If only for the passion flowing out of each word. “Another one, then. ‘My body is my vessel, not my being. So take of it what you will, o’ malicious night, but my being is mine and indomitable. And so you fall, each night in my dreams until the Force makes them reality’.”

“What’s that one mean?”

“That our bodies contain us but are not us.” He said simply, giving her a small smile of warmth and reassurance. “And that so long as we believe in what we want, believe in its truth and possibility, we will attain that goal and wish.” 

“I like that one, too.” She smiled, laying back in the bed and sighing. Blue eyes blinked open after a few moments and she promised, “I’ll get over this, Jaune. You can count on that, it’s my word. And an Arc-”

“Never breaks their word.” He nodded, smiling sadly and nostalgically at the ancient philosophy. Squeezing her hand and pushing aside the blast of melancholy that had risen up so suddenly, he sighed and, with the breath, exhaled the tension the way he’d always been taught. “And I give you mine, that I will never be weak enough to allow this to happen again, Saphron.”

“Jaune, it’s not-”

“Regardless of fault, Sis.” He cut her off, smiling confidently and standing, releasing her hand with one last squeeze of affection. Turning to the door, he murmured one last line for her, “An old Jedi song. ‘Sing a song for reluctant heroes, who fight and fall against their wishes. I can see their faces, hear their voices, feel their losses. Sing for these, but not for me, for I stood and wished to’.”

“What’s that one mean?”

“I don’t know.” He confessed, letting out a sigh and adding, “Mother is here, coming up the stairs right now.”

“How do you-” Saphron cut herself off with a wry chuckle, “Of course. The Force, you can feel people’s presences and-”

“Saphron! My baby girl!” The door slammed open, his mother storming in with wide, green eyes set into a weathered, heavier face of a woman that had borne eight children. The woman’s body matched that, thicker than her youth as byproduct of her child rearing, but that didn’t mean she was slow by any means. 

No, she cleared the room in under a second, Jaune dancing around her to evade the charging woman. 

“Careful, sweetie!” His father called, joining her and running his hands through his hair while the middle aged woman fretted over her daughter, frantically checking to make sure what was left of her had been treated well. “She’s healing still, June. She doesn’t have much Aura, so that isn’t even speeding it up too well.”

“Oh I know she’s healing, I’m not so stupid or irate as to hurt her, you blonde oaf. I’m just checking that you and that Huntress bandaged her right, you have always been terrible at it.” She snapped, running gentle hands over the bandages and lifting the blanket up in spite of Saphron’s squeak of protest, checking the bandages there too while Nicholas coughed awkwardly and turned away. Seemingly satisfied she relented and turned to him, green eyes searching blue before something sparked in them and she blinked, collapsing almost to the ground, Nicholas’ hands grabbing her shoulders and planting her on the stool instead, “J-Jaune?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling and standing a bit straighter in spite of his fatigue. “I’m back, Mom.”

“But, how-”

“I was saved by a friend, and trained so I could get back from where we were trapped.” He cut her off, smiling softly at her and bringing his hands together, fingers interlaced comfortably. “How about I catch you up over dinner? I’d love to see the girls, again. After the blood test, I guess-”

“The blood test can go right to hell, I recognize my baby boy.” She was moving before he could blink, thick arms wrapping around him and crushing him in a mountainous hug. “And you can tell me all about your adventures while I cook dinner, young man. Then you’re grounded for running off.”

“Grounded?”

“For a year.” His father added helpfully, smiling at him, “No running off. Just training, until you go to Beacon.

“What?!”

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“You're the young Mister Arc, I presume?” A woman asked, joining him in the gardens where he was meditating, two days of cuddles, stuffed faces and long discussions later when he finally found time for it. He cracked an eye to look up at the busty, blonde woman, standing rigid and firm outside the door into the manor’s family side. “I wanted to speak to you, but felt I should wait until your family was… Satiated.”

“They aren’t, but go ahead and talk.” He answered simply, sighing and focusing on the Force, enjoying the gentle feeling of basking in those waves of cool peace and warm passion. Like a tropical beach’s ocean, tide gentle and strong. “I hope you don’t mind if I keep meditating.”

“Of course not.” She shrugged, asking after a second, “I won’t be a bother, I hope?”

“No. My Master taught me to meditate even in the midst of exercises and lectures.” And made him absorb the knowledge as well, testing him after each session to see his progress. “A simple conversation won’t be a bother to me.”

“Your Master?”

“The one who saved me and trained me, so I could get back home on my own.” He answered simply, lie coming to his mind and lips as smoothly as the truth, he’d practiced it so often. “Little trader out of Mistral, just a little boatman. He found me near a settlement, no one knew who I was or how I got there, so he took me in. Said he thought I was a Grimm Orphan.”

“Where did you meet him?” She asked gently, taking a seat on the stoop and, he had no doubt, committing everything he said to memory. 

“Tiny fishing village he’d stopped in at a few days to the south.” He answered simply, knowing that the coast was covered in little clusters of houses that survived off fishing and running on their boats if the Grimm came. “He doesn’t come to the continent much, so when I recovered over on Anima with him, he had no way to get me back home. And no proof of who I was to get in contact with anyone.”

“So he trained you?”

“Yes.” He answered simply, “He was a retired Hunter, apparently, though he wouldn’t tell me about it. Taught me what he knew about fighting, handed me his weapon,” he lifted the Saber with the Force as he spoke, “and unlocked my Aura. So I could get home on my own.”

“What was his name?” She asked quietly, smiling when his eyes cracked to look at her and offering a small smile. “I am only curious, Mister Arc. If you wish not to tell me, I won’t pry into your affairs.” 

“... Arkanius Crimson.” He said quietly, using the Lord whose records and books he’d learned from and whose weapon he carried, and then adding the color of his saber to it to get the name. Sprinkles of truth made for an easier sold lie, Instructor had always told him. “He died before I left, though. Told me not to waste it, the training and him saving me.”

“And that is why you wish to become a Huntsman?” He nodded and she returned the gesture, turning her gaze to the settlement and clicking her tongue. “Well, your Semblance is certainly powerful enough, and you, from what I was told, are skilled enough. Not to mention the Headmaster’s offer to your father…”

“Very well.” She finally nodded with a small, standing and brushing off her skirt with a hand. With her other, she reached into a pocket and held a collapsed Scroll out to him. “This will alert you to whatever you need, and give you access to study materials and tutoring to keep you on par with your class mates.”

“Ah.” He rose, using the Force to lift himself to his feet, and accepted the little thing. With a respectful nod, he added, “Thank you, Headmistress.”

“You’re most welcome, and welcome to Beacon Academy.” She reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, green eyes meeting confused blue ones for a moment and then softening. “I’m sorry your… Master passed away, and sorry for everything that happened here until now. Rest assured, I will personally ensure that Ansel is protected from now on. You need to focus on your training.”

“I will.” He had promises to keep, after all. Smiling dopily he shrugged and added in a jovial, joking manner, “What kind of Hero doesn’t get stronger?”

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“I saw the damage he dealt, Ozpin.” Glynda answered simply over the call, sitting on the edge of the room she’d been given after a long day of work, organizing the sentry drones and officers Beacon had loaned Ansel. “A crater twenty feet wide, Grimm plating crushed, and the Guard report he was devastating in the fight.”

“The Arc household is an excellent source of quality Hunters, yes. Throughout history, the name Arc has carried quite a lot of weight and influence. It will be put to good use, here.” Ozpin agreed quietly, sounding pleased and tired in equal measure on the other end of the line. “How is his mental health, with everything that has happened?”

“Seemingly stable, Headmaster.” She answered, “He’s upset over his sister, even if he doesn’t dwell on it. And his ordeal previous seems not to have broken him in any way I could discern.”

“Good. It would have been a shame to have to wait for another Arc in the future to meet my expectations.” And would have taken decades, she knew without asking. Decades she didn’t like the idea of whiling away, simply waiting for a better asset to come along in her old age, when she’d be near retirement. “How have the defensive measures gone over?”

“Very well, Sir.” The drones would make all the difference in the world alone, and the security would bring Hunters and travelers back, eventually. And traders, of course. All of which would reignite the fire of Ansel. “The settlement should recover without your more drastic measures, I believe.”

“Good, good.” The man sighed, static crackling over the Scroll-Link, and he asked, “When are you leaving to lock down Miss Nikos for us?”

“Two days, Sir.” 

“Good, good. She’s a skilled, honorable fighter. She’ll make an excellent eventual addition to our little club.” And an excellent replacement for her, eventually, Glynda knew. She tried not to let that part bother her, as best she could manage it. “I assume you are getting ready for rest, Glynda?”

“Yes.” She answered, sharper than she meant to and grimacing at that fact, rushing to cover for herself, “I have had a long day, Headmaster, and have another ahead of me as well, clearing the banditry out for Ansel.”

“You will be safe, I hope.” Even as ancient as he was, he still cared, and that was sad to the woman in a way. 

“Of course.” She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her over the call. “Nicholas will be accompanying me as well, so I have little doubt it will go well. Especially with the support of the security forces I bright, and Ansel’s Guard.”

“I won’t keep you up any longer, then.” He answered quietly, followed by a gentle, “Good night, Headmistress.”

Collapsing her Scroll she laid back, staring up at the ceiling for a moment and, finally, sighing, “Oh for the days where things were simpler… I miss just needing to go on Hunts and grade papers.”

Simpler times…

“Oh well,” she shrugged, rolling over to get her sleep while she could. Before her eyes closed, she thought of one last thing, “One day, I pray, this all comes to something better.”

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Grape Fanta :

I’m honored to receive such high praise. Thank you.

Bukkake No Jutsu :

So am I!

Dark lord Memeikus (Guest) :

I shall try and meet that meme in glorious battle!

Captain Dick Scratcher :

I interpret it in a disagreement in philosophy. Both sides are halves of a coin, and the Jedi and Sith mistakenly assumed that they were instead separate things. In essence, neither seeks a balanced existence, and that is what the Force is meant to seek out naturally. Balance.

The blood test wasn’t related to the Midis, it was just his mom being weird and anxious. I eliminated it to prevent people wondering about the plot thread. 

Most of this will be detailed later, so I can’t specify, sorry.

Talon Ibn La Ahad :

Stop. Guessing. What. I. Am. Doing. Ree

It is, essentially, a Witcher rip off idea, yeah. He uses the weapons depending on what he’s facing and his willingness to be lethal. He isn’t a vicious killer, he doesn’t want to amputate every goon he runs up against or dismember sparring partners. 

Next chapter will be the Beacon Arc, Chapter One.

Arc-Angel-Of-Fire :

Fair critique, and I apologise. 

Void Death’s Harbinger :

Jaune learned stances, yes. But like his training, they aren’t pure stances, but rather he blends and flows between them, seeking balance. Part of his theme and style.  
Maybe, maybe not. Would be spoilers, sorry. XD


	6. Chapter 6

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(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Beacon’s promised support came continuously and quickly, with an influx of Hunters and guards of the living and mechanical varieties, enough that the militia’s numbers waned once again, many returning to their preferred jobs as hunters, farmers, traders, smiths and even miners. 

This brought life back to the settlement, and the retirement of so many who dreaded fighting brought a boost to morale and happiness both. A vibrancy of life that echoed around the town, which was then further increased and colored by the steady presence of Hunters and trainees on Beacon assignment to the little town, keeping the woods clear of Grimm enough that the banditry wandered off for fear of Hunter intervention against them directly. The Huntresses particularly, young and older alike, always served as idols to frontier children, one young woman even going so far as rigging up her chaingun and letting youngsters test fire it under her incredibly strict supervision and control. 

The Hunters’ wisdom, the trainees’ eagerness and excitement about the future, and the populace’s new hope and sense of safety. All colored the Force like the late evening sun glinting off water and casting it in a thousand shades of pink, red and everything else. It was wonderful, to feel and see when he sat down to meditate or slipped into the Force while he trained his body. 

In exchange, he let Miss Goodwitch run a blood test to confirm who he was - for Vale, not any of them, she trusted the Arcs to know their own - and even began running the paperwork to have his certificate of death annulled. Not a very easy process to go through, she’d told him when he voiced a complaint, even if she was handling most of it for him so he’d get done in time. Then, he signed his name on the early enrollment papers, essentially enlisting in the military life that was training to be a formal Hunter. He chafed at the loss of freedom after so long trapped underground, but had to remind himself that it was worth it in the end. For Ansel and his dreams he’d trade essentially any one or any thing. 

And besides, to be a Hunter meant attending an Academy, one of the four. And between the frozen Atlas, distant Mistral, and Vacuo with its seas of sand, he knew which he preferred. And if he could attend for free, and gain something for his family along with it? All the better, to his mind. 

After that it was a year of study and training, spending his time split between Ansel where his father drilled him to the bone every day, and Vale where his mother worked his fingers to the bone on homework every day out of the week. Not to mention his sisters, stealing him away at every single chance they found, smuggling him treats, and giving pouty eyes to his parents whenever they wanted to play and he had work to do. It was slowing him down, often enough to impact his grades, and generally frustrating to his plans for the future. 

But of course, he indulged them every chance he got, and some he at least technically didn’t, sneaking off with them and dealing with the chiding he received later. 

The year went quickly, more so than he’d ever thought possible, but he was happy through it all. In a way that already made his suffering and hardship worth more than gold or Dust, and he knew more was to come.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“I’ll be fine, Saph.” He assured her for the thousandth time in the last week, standing in his armor and leaning against the window of the mass transit airship Beacon used to collect its students from Vale and the surrounding, more difficult to reach or leave, settlements. “Yes, I made it to Vale on time, and yes I got on the airship to Beacon. It wasn’t even that hard a travel, I had a Hunter for a third of the distance. And my saber carried me the rest of the way.”

“Did you run into any Grimm?”

“Only a couple Beowolves, and you know what I can do to that low class trash.” He left out, of course, the Ursai, Alphas, and the Nevermore he’d had to deal with. A small enough one, of course, that came close enough for him to leap to and behead it. A younger Grimm meant a dumber one, after all, hurling itself into each fight with reckless abandon. “I’m fine. Barely even worked up a sweat against them.”

“Well, I guess you know how to handle yourself, so I won’t dwell on it.” He knew she would, only that she’d do so quietly, but let it go. He didn’t want to fight with her about it, it was a waste of valuable time. “How are you feeling? Starting Beacon, I mean.”

“Fine enough, Saph.” Nervous to finally be starting, anxious to get underway and settled in, upset to be separated from his family again. Though, he pointed out to himself again, his youngest sisters and mother still stayed in Vale, for their education and so a parent was present respectively. So most he could see on a fairly regular basis, if he wanted to. “I’ll be okay, once things get going, I just… Really don’t like flying.”

“Motion sickness?”

“No, no, the Force keeps my stomach steady. As long as I maintain it, at least.” And thank the Force for that, too, he’d hate to be retching his way to Beacon… Not a good first showing, to say the least, to be stuck doing that in front of his new classmates. “How are you dong, though?”

“M’fine. It tingles sometimes, and the prosthetic from Atlas itches a little, sometimes.” She sounded strained when she said it, likely knowing where the conversation could go from here and dreading it. For that reason, he guessed, she went on to cut the discussion off before it could really start, “I’m fine, Jaune. Really. It wasn’t the most expensive thing in the world, but it works well enough. You can stop worrying about me.”

“Okay, Saph. I will.” He wouldn’t, of course. Or rather, he couldn’t. But for her sake, he’d let the issue lie, and wait to see if she needed anything later. Not that he could do much, but still, he had no other real option. “How’s Terra doing, now she isn’t stuck as a guardswoman, by the way? She enjoying her work again?”

“Oh she’s loving planning the upgrades to the town and managing repairs to the mining infrastructure, she comes home exhausted and ranting about it all the time.” He smiled, even if it was still weird to consider his sister with someone. He’d never even considered some of his family growing up in that way, but as long as she was happy… “She’s about to head out, actually, so I need to go soon. Want to spend some time with her before work.”

“That’s fine. I think I see Beacon in the distance, too, so I would have hopped off myself inside a couple minutes.” He’d known it would be a short call regardless, so he wasn’t too aggrieved by it ending. Smiling and uncaring of any of the people around hearing him, he added a gentle, “Love you, Saph.”

“You too, baby brother. Be safe at Initiation, I hear Beacon’s is… Rougher than some like, usually.” She chuckled on the other end at something he didn’t see and then the call ended, the blond warrior sighing tiredly and clicking his Scroll closed. 

It he clicked into place on the inside of his left forearm, a heavy metal bracer added to his setup in the year since he’d gotten it. It wasn’t much armor, but it was made of a metal found only in Atlas’ northern mountains, that only really had advantages in the heaviest airships they built. It could resist high heat and disperse it evenly across the material which meant, and he’d tested it, that his saber couldn’t melt through it like paper. Eventually, the plain, flat little black thing would start to heat up and then melt, but for now it meant he was a bit less likely to hurt himself in training or fighting. And moderately protected from melee attacks besides, mixed as it was with plainer steel to add to its strength and lower the cost. 

Beacon probably regretted his ‘equipment stipend’ now, he supposed. 

With some more of it, he’d made a proper harness for his weapons. Two long tubes of hard, dark lacquered wood capped in steel rings wide enough to hold his weapons and open on either side. The staff and blade sat almost perfectly vertically on his back, angled only slightly to his right to avoid problems with turning his head. It would make a natural draw harder, he’d been told, but he had his ‘Semblance’ to use if he needed to draw it that fast, and could tilt it with his off hand to draw normally besides. 

Gently, he tugged his hood lower around his shoulder length shock of blonde hair and leaned against the hull of the ship, watching the forest below pass by idly. It and his beard, which got him grief from Hunters for its length and the braid he put it in to hang to his collar safely, had been thankfully trimmed to look good by Saphron before he left Ansel.

And if it looked a bit choppy with her less than stellar prosthetic? He didn’t care, much.

“Hm.” He sensed a presence approaching him and turned, a woman with long, red hair’s hand pausing halfway to reaching out to him. Quashing instinctive suspicion ingrained into him - Sith training was not a ‘trust building’ experience, even if his Jedi training balanced it a bit - he asked the bronze-armored woman, “What’s wrong, ma’am? Do you need something?”

“O-Oh, no.” She shook her head, gloved hand falling at her side and a polite, if strained, smile forcing its way onto her face. It was the kind of smile he would place on people involved in politics, looking nice but meaning little, even if her eyes spoke of a spark of… Hope? “I just… Wanted to introduce myself, I suppose. You looked rather lonely over here, you see.”

“Did I?” He turned, looking around himself at the other occupants, and noted with some amusement the several feet in any direction from him. Like they were avoiding him. And he, leaning here with his hood up, might have in fact looked lonely. “Ah. I see. I wasn’t, but thank you for coming over on the assumption I was. Miss…?”

“A-Ah. Yes, of course.” She seemed surprised by his asking for whatever reason, but recovered quickly. Resting a hand on her chest she bowed her head slightly and spoke in formal enough a tone, he guessed she was Atlesian. “My name is Pyrrha Nikos, and it is a pleasure to meet you. You’re... Jaune Arc, if I have things right.”

“I… Yes, I am Jaune Arc.” Was he that well known? Well, he knew that his return had been mentioned in some papers and on television, ‘the boy who survived being hunted by Grimm and made his way home’ and all that. Smiling he hoped to deflect from that though and added in a faux-bravado filled voice, “Short, sweet, rolls of the tongue and the ladies love it.”

“Aha... Do they, truly?” She smiled and visibly, as well as mentally if the Force around her told the truth, relaxed at the joke. Laughing quietly with the hand from her chest and bow now covering her mouth politely, stepping to the side so she could watch the crowd and speak to him more.

“My mother says so.” He shrugged, earning another small, half-polite half-amused laugh from the woman. She was surprised, he guessed, at how friendly he was… Which got him thinking. “Am I really that scary, or something?”

“Hm? O-Oh...” She blinked once and he did too, realizing he’d spoken out loud and internally chiding himself but standing there silently, not knowing what to do. A habit he had done much to curtail, but not yet broken since his time in the Temple, and one he bit his cheek for now. “A-Ah, no, not… Scary or frightening, or anything of the sort. Only… Intimidating, and odd, for your story, I suppose.”

“Hm.” Not everyone walked out of the forest after vanishing with Grimm behind them, he supposed, and the Guard had talked about his fight on the walls at Ansel. 

He was powerful, and known to be now, and he was equally weak when he vanished. A young child vanishes, and then years later returns with incredible power that he displays by annihilating Grimm? That was not normal, to say the least. And even if the story had somewhat lost its new shine in the last year, many would still remember it.

“I-I am sorry if I offended you, the Headmaster mentioned what happened with you and I thought-” She shook her head and he stiffened, feeling the Force ripple around her as her emotions swayed suddenly,” I’m so sorry to have upset you, Jau-”

“You did no such thing, Nikos.” He cut her off without thinking, grimacing when she flinched at the tone. He’d only meant to stop her apologizing, able to sense her anxiety and urge to run “I am sorry, I… Just didn’t want you to assume I was angry with you, or anything, Miss Nikos. And I didn’t mean to snap, I… Get impatient, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. After what you went through, I… Understand it.” She gave him a small, hesitant smile then and he turned to the window again, leaning against the railing that surrounded the observation deck they were on. For a few moments, as Beacon loomed closer, they stood in silence, Jaune watching the forest and nature outside the thing and she watching him curiously. Finally, she asked, “Why do you carry two weapons?”

“One is for people, the other is for Grimm.” He shrugged, the woman leaning into his peripheral vision so he could see her raised eyebrow. With a sigh, he elaborated, “My staff has two plasmic blades, so to speak, that sear and cut through almost anything that it hits. Even through Aura it can burn, so I carry the bladed staff to fight people.”

“So you don’t accidentally kill anyone. Correct?” She guessed, Jaune nodding and trying to suppress the pang of guilt he felt at that. The woman, though, simply nodded understandingly. Either accepting the decision or, equally possible, knowing the casualties he’d inflicted on the Guard when he lost his cool and not wanting to prod the wound. “A wise decision, I suppose, with a weapon that dangerous. I shall have to watch it if we ever spar.”

“I suppose you will, Nikos.” And like that they were agreed, the woman smiling to acknowledge the fact. They’d spar, at least once and likely more, when they reached Beacon. 

“Please, call me Pyrrha.” She asked, offering a hand for him to shake. He did and she nodded, asking politely, “If possible… Would you like to become partners?”

“Perhaps, perhaps....” He grinned, nodding approvingly at the question even as he considered it more deeply. She’d be a decent partner, and they seemed to get along, so the choice would not be a poor one. Only… “Assuming, of course, Beacon selects partners in such a way as we can affect.”

“We shall see. You’re right to point out we may be unable to partner given however Beacon does their partnering, though.” She nodded her head back, towards the passenger compartments behind them, “I’m going to check on my things, make sure everything is in proper order before we disembark. I hope to speak to you later.”

“You too.” He nodded, watching the woman turn and stride away from him, an odd… Satisfaction rolling off her, Light tinged with something Dark at whatever she felt. With a shrug, he grunted simply, “Odd.”

Not bad in any way, though.

Just odd.

With that thought he turned to follow after her, and make sure his own bags were gathered and packed properly. Better now while everyone was fawning over the view than later, when the halls were crowded and choked by rushing student-hopefuls, after all. Not to mention, he wanted the time to think and gather his thoughts, to control his emotions before they arrived. Because now, nearly six years in the working to get there, he was at Beacon Academy. 

And the Force flushed with his excitement at that knowledge. 

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

He’d never personally met Ozpin, even in the year since his early enrollment and agreement to come to Beacon in exchange for the man’s help. Something he’d at first chalked up to the man simply being busy at the time and later to being busy in general, that he’d eventually get around to it when he had the time to spare. To him. Four months into the year before his actual, technical enrollment he began to suspect when he or those working for him did show it would be to check on their investment. Ensure that he wasn’t lazing about, intending to be ousted from Beacon after taking their assets to help Ansel, or maybe even just check that their droids and Hunters were being managed properly. 

But over the months, no one came or asked about what was happening. 

Why?

It made no sense, even now looking back with hindsight and trying to piece together more than he could at the time. The man made a great effort to get him into Beacon, but then turned around and ignored him and Ansel both. Maybe having an Arc in Beacon, and helping Ansel revitalize as well, were simply political, then? He could see an angle there, between the old, Hunter name and the charity of helping a struggling legacy family recover.

But something felt wrong regardless, when the man had spoken. And his presence, the way the Force reacted to it was strange…

“Uh, h-hello?” He felt a hand on his shoulder and his eyes blinked open in the fluorescents of the locker room they’d had to change in, the young Force user glancing up at a young looking girl with bright, silver eyes standing anxiously beside him. 

She tucked her cloak around her and swallowed anxiously, reeking of anxiety and fear, but covered by a need to… Do something, in regards to him. “A-Are you okay? The, um, the alarm for the students to head to the cliff went off a minute ago…”

“I was meditating.” He grunted the half-truth and stood, only pulling back a scant second before using the Force to do it. Rolling his shoulders in a pantomime of stretching, using the Force to limber him up with the motions instead, he asked in a quiet voice. “Did you turn back to check on me, miss…?”

“R-Ruby. Ruby Rose.” She squeaked, hand hovering over her weapon’s handle at her waist almost frighteningly. But he sensed comfort in the act, not threat. Like she was huddling a security blanket close, only this one could ostensibly kill monsters. She shuffled awkwardly regardless of the minor comfort it brought and looked up at him, “And, uh, yeah. I didn’t want you to be late and get in trouble. You know?”

“Jaune. Jaune Arc.” He offered his more armored off hand since she was on that side and, nervous, the girl took it gingerly. He gave it a gentle shake and released the tiny hand, the girl letting it flop to her side unsurely. “Thank you for checking on me, Miss Rose. I was lost in thought, meditating ahead of the coming test.”

“Yeah, uh…” She was nervous, he could feel it waft off her in the Force. 

“Let’s just head to the Initiation, hm?” He prodded gently, gesturing at the far door with a hand. “Please, helpful young ladies first.”

“S-Sure.” She nodded, turning to bounce away towards the door excitedly, previous anxiety gone. Oddly enough, it seemed, at the chance for combat. An odd girl… Who he followed readily enough, without much more consideration, when she called back, peeking around the door frame curiously, “You comin’?”

Thoughts of Ozpin could wait until later, assuming he let his Sith paranoia run wild the way he had been so far. That point was a good enough reason to cut the thoughts off there, though. No need to let the Dark Side hook him any more than was strictly necessary, of course, lest he disrupt the Balance. Down that road lay problems, he decided, pushing the thoughts and Ozpin’s odd Force presence off for now to focus on more important matters.

“S-So, uh...” The girl started as they walked, some way behind the herd of other student hopefuls, still visible down the halls to be followed. Even if he couldn’t sense their anxiety, sheer apprehension, false confidence and every other that blended together under the young fighters’ minds. With a flourish, she pulled out her weapon, the scythe expanding smoothly in her hands while she grinned, “T-This is my baby!”

“Ah.” He glanced it over once, then twice, and guessed, based on what he could see. “Combat scythe with a concussive ordinance oriented sniper chamber and mid-range marksman scope. High impact or low?”

“O-Oh, it’s high. H-High impact, I mean, not… High high.” She seemed surprised at his analysis, but recovered quickly enough, collapsing it into rifle form in another show of what it was. “It’s high impact to stagger Grimm that take the hits, and help me maneuver, since I’m so small.”

“You fire and the recoil sends you flying. Faster if you hit something next to you, I’m guessing, since that concussive force would add to the propulsion.” Not unlike when he used Force Slam, hurling himself down with a blast of Force and using another to damped the blow and cause a reactive explosion. 

“Yes!” She nodded, smiling widely either at his quick understanding or something else he couldn’t place, petals falling from her cloak as they walked now. As though in reaction. A Semblance, he decided quickly, electing to ignore it. “I like to, you know, be fast. Grimm never see me coming!”

“I bet.”

“What about yours?” She asked, innocent eyes landing on him again over a small smile.

“My… Ah.” He nodded, reaching up with both hands to retrieve his weapons, holding one up as he explained them. “This is my kind of glaive-”

“That’s a light falx, Mistralian design. The blade is thinner so it can be longer without messing with the weight, and straightened it looks like, too. So maybe less a light falx and more a short-spear, or staff-saber.” She corrected automatically, blinking and blushing when she realized she’d interrupted him and pulling her hood over her head tightly. “‘M sorry… I shouldn’t have interrupted.”

“You like weapons quite a lot.” He observed, the girl returning to shyness now and simply nodding at his question. “I don’t know the names of things like that, never been interested, so I’ll take your word. I only carry it so I can fight people without hurting them.”

“The other, then?” She looked at the staff saber in his hands, eyes looking for any sign of mecha-shift or anything else to explain its function. 

“It sears and incinerates, hotter than anything can take. Even Aura can’t handle it, so using it against people carries a high risk of maiming them.” Or killing them outright, more likely, with how he’d been trained to fight. Against some, he was sure, that would be useful, but not against the common thief or sparring opponent. “We’ll be fighting Grimm, so maybe you’ll see what it can do.”

“I hope so!” She bounced, shyness gone again as he returned his weapons to their holsters and she did the same, rambling on about how she fought Grimm while he listened patiently and tried to keep up with her. Finally quieting, she grew somber and almost whispered, “I just want to do well, so I can get my license and help people.”

“Ah.” She was so innocent, he could sense it in her words and the way the Light Side wrapped around her, when she was calm enough not to whip up a tempest of emotions. It cocooned her protectively, as though magnetized to her very being. Quietly, he promised, “You’ll pass and go on to help people. I know it.”

“Really?” He nodded and she smiled, wide and innocent like his younger sisters. Then it vanished into anxiety once again, “I’m nervous, though, you know? I’m two years ahead… W-What if a Grimm gets me, you know?”

“Is that scary enough for you to back down?”

“Of course not, that’d be silly.” She snapped, as much as she seemed able to snap at anyone. Even as weak and lacking heat as it had, she still smiled sheepishly and offered, “I’m sorry, that was mean.”

“The Grimm won’t get you.” He promised, mouth moving before his brain, her innocence and anxiety so like his sisters that he acted on protective instinct. She gave him a confused look and, trapped now, he elaborated, “I’ll protect you, Ruby. I promise. As much as I am able, at least, I’ll try and protect you, if you need it.”

“I-I… Thanks.” She nodded, smiling at him and shrugging like it didn’t matter, though he knew for fact it had soothed her fears to even be offered it. “But it’s okay, I’m gonna find my big sis and she’ll help me as much as I need. N-Not that I need it, or anything! B-But, just saying, if I do…”

“I understand.” He nodded, waving a hand to dismiss the line of thought and chiding himself for not thinking before speaking. “Now you were… Talking about your rifle? Crescent Rose, hm?”

Deep down, he hoped sincerely not to face any powerful Grimm out there… His power was, as yet, too unwieldy to use wantonly. If they faced anything great or numerous, he would be forced to give himself to the Force to protect those behind him. A hero didn’t let the weak fall when he could protect them, after all, even if it was risky to defend them. So sincerely, he hoped the Force would guide him so that he faced only normal Grimm and small numbers, where his saber would be all he needed.

A sense overtook him though, a flash of fear and red when he blinked, and he got the feeling that was a hope that would leave him very, very disappointed. 

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“The platforms you stand upon now will, at the end of a timer, catapult you out over the Emerald Forest. There you will face Grimm of a caliber that would have a village calling for a team of Hunters. It is imperative that you find your partner and make your way to the objectives, you get no credit for Grimm slayed. Or for dying, for that matter.” Ozpin explained, some of the more nervous students exchanging wary glances at that while Jaune stood, hands clasping his wrists in front of him comfortably. Ozpin looked them over in the brief moment before he continued to speak, eyes narrowing slightly on Jaune’s cool demeanor. “Remember that, in the Emerald Forest, enemies are everywhere. Focus on surviving, not winning.”

“Now then, on the topic of partners, I know some of you have been wondering how you will be assigned partners. The truth is… You will not.” Confused, the students exchanged glances and even Jaune would admit to his eyes narrowing at the statement. “Your partner will be the first potential student whose eyes you meet. Good luck, and that will be all.”

“Lunacy…” He murmured, the man’s smile curling more when he heard the words. Beside him, he sensed Ruby’s panic and trepidation spike, now knowing she couldn’t simply select her sister as her partner. Gently, he pushed the Force around her, enveloping her in the Light Side and subtly directing her eyes to him. He smiled as their eyes met and the Force’s influence calmed her, “You will be fine, Ruby. May the Force guide you.”

“O-Okay?” She seemed confused, but he didn’t explain it, instead kneeling on the platform as the ticking started. Distantly to his left, he heard the first cathunk of a catapult kicking a student into the air with a howl of adrenaline. Voice quiet, like she was scared she’d get detention for speaking in class, she asked, “W-What does that mean?”

“Meet me after Initiation, maybe I’ll explain it.” He let his eyes close then, letting the Force wash through his mind. Like cool water tempering hot steel, his nerves cooled and breathing slowed, the world around him lighting up like a world made electric. “I’m ready… I am one with the Force. The Force is with me.”

With a loud whir and thunk, he was hurtled into the air at missile speed, wind whistling by him while he tried to regain his center of gravity. Arms and legs splayed, he let his fear course, adrenaline and the Force surging with it and giving him power as his arc reached its end and he began to fall to Remnant far below, behind rows of trees like jagged teeth in his way. With a howl lost to the wind he reached an arm back and shot it forward, the Force cracking in front of him like a scythe, crushing several trees in his path as he descended. Seeing the forest floor, he curled into a ball and rolled, feet pointed at the ground when he went spread eagle again and used the Force to slow his descent. 

He hit the ground harder than he’d hoped and turned it into a roll, landing on his shoulder and coming up in a jog that carried him a couple feet before he came to a stop, leaning on a tree to catch his breath. With a grunt, he repeated, “Lunacy…”

And then began walking, making his way through the forest in search of a partner. A search which didn’t take long, it turned out, rounding a bend in a natural path from clearing to clearing and blinking in surprise at the close proximity of the red-haired woman. Pyrrha staggered back, sword half-raising in instinctive defense before she relaxed and smiled, nodding a greeting to him. 

“I suppose we’re partners then.” He could sense her satisfaction at his words, and smiled in return. Either because of her infective happiness at the news or his own, he wasn’t sure, and in the end it wouldn’t matter. Turning as he sensed movement, and not a person’s Force presence to accompany it, he sighed and grunted, “Grimm.”

“I don’t see anythin-” She cut herself off at the sound of wood snapping and beasts snarling, not questioning him and instead stepping between the sound and her new partner, legs bowed and shield raised to protect them. Without even a thought for herself, he noted, calling his saber-staff forth with the Force. “Stay behind me, Jaune, I’ll take the first charge. Then you select your target and-”

“I have a better idea, Pyr.” He rested a hand on her shoulder and stepped in front of her, twin blades of scarlet plasma hissing to life at the end of the staff held horizontally before him. “I’ll take the first charge, and show you what your partner can do.”

She didn’t get a chance to argue, a plateless Beowolf crashing through the underbrush awkwardly, half-falling and snapping at them pitiably. With a roll of his eyes he turned and pushed his hand forward, a concussive blast of Force hurling the monster back and into a tree where its bones shattered and it sagged. The next two were older, lightly armored and knowing how to stop a rush without stumbling, instead conserving their momentum and force into charging leaps. He leapt as well, using the Force to spin and holding his staff across his chest, turning him into a spinning top of death, slicing the Grimm to ribbons as he sailed between them, rolling as he had in the air previous to land. A fourth emerged, this one mature and armored to match, and his saber sizzled as his feet met its shoulders and the bottom blade cut down through its head and into its neck. 

“Switch!” He called, kicking off the Grimm with the Force and sailing away from the next two. 

Pyrrha must have understood his intention, for her spear bit deep into one’s chest while she sailed into the other, her shield slamming into its throat rim first and turning its snarl into a choke. As though pulled by the Force, her spear returned to her hand and she knelt, leaping and using the force to thrust through the Grimm’s neck. Her leap carried her through it, ichor splashing across her arm as she went through, and rolled in the air, sending her shield biting into the Alpha’s shoulder with a crack of bone plating shattering that sounded like a gunshot. 

But he sensed her panic, her realization that the Grimm had survived unharmed enough to fight and could strike back at her in her position. Claws whistling, the beast made to take advantage of that opening, the woman in the air and unable to dodge. His hands rose then, saber flicking off to avoid cutting himself in his focus on his power, his partner and the Grimm. One grabbed Pyrrha and yanked her back sharp enough she cried out once and then twice when she landed behind him with a flare of cushioning Aura and had to roll to rise steadily. The other sent a fist of Force power into the monster’s stomach and legs, sweeping them and breaking bone in one powerful attack. 

Spinning on his heel and igniting his sabers in the same moment, he sent his staff hissing through the air like a red buzzsaw, severing an arm as the monster slid to the side on wounded legs, trying to dodge and only managing to survive the attack. At least for a moment, before he recalled the weapon to him, and it melted through the monster on its path. 

“Forgive me, I didn’t check the rank of the Grimm before I attacked.” He nodded, accepting the apology on its face, and she added in a more jovial tone, “But I would say that was an impressive start to the test. Would you not?”

“Test is just to get the Relics.” He pointed out quietly, using the Force to clean his staff in a burst of fur, bone shards and ichor in a whump of pressure. Smiling, he offered a hand to her, “Though I do agree we did well… Shall I clean off your arm?”

“Hm?” She glanced to her swordhand and grimaced, noticing only now the same mess as had coated one side of his staff covering the top of her arm. “Ah, I see… A combat hazard of fighting the Grimm, I suppose.”

Lost in the fight, she’d not notice, likely because it wasn’t important at the time. Accepting his offer, she held her hand out and he took it, channeling the Force around her and between the mess of Grimm and her arm before hurling it up and to the side with a whump. Impressed, she turned her arm over in front of her and hummed, giving him a look and nod before he stepped past her. 

“Now,” he grunted, “which way to find the Relics, do you think?”

They ran into several small packs of Grimm like those, from Ursai and Beowolves to Creeps and even juvenile Nevermore swarms that tried to peck their eyes out. Nothing problematic came, though, and they made good time in their exploration as a result. From the early morning launch to noon, they walked, fought, snuck and sometimes even talked idly when it was safe to. It was enjoyable, if he was honest, just talking idly with someone that didn’t dwell on what had happened to him, or ask about it, instead seeming to respect his privacy completely and not prying.

“So you’re not Atlesian?” He finally asked, pushing a branch crossing their path out of the way gently, so as not to damage the leaves or the tree unduly. 

“Ah, no.” She laughed quietly, hand covering her mouth again as she ducked under his arm and the branch both. Watching the path forward and only raising her voice the fraction needed to compensate for him being behind her, she continued. “No, Jaune, I’m Mistralian, of the Nikos family line. A tournament fighter, over there.”

“I would bet a pretty penny that you did fairly well.” He guessed, the woman’s emotions shifting for a moment, the ripples barely discernible but easily read when they were the only ones in the waters for him to feel. From calm and comfortable to tense and anxious for a moment, before snapping back to the former. 

“I did fairly well, yes.” She nodded simply, giving him a searching look over a shoulder and adding, “I came here for a… Change of pace, you could say. In Mistral, my names are known, my personal one and surname both. I hoped here would be different, and in most cases was disappointed. You, though, have not disappointed me. Thank you for that, even if it was unintended”

“I see.” He could sympathise with the plight and decision, more than others maybe. Many looked at him and saw the story first, the power second, and Jaune somewhere else further down the line yet. Unsure now of what to say, he simply gestured ahead of them with an awkward wave that earned an amused smile, “Shall we?”

“We shall.” She nodded, leading him now for her turn on point, shield ready to snap up at the barest hint of danger. 

She certainly was an odd one, and he’d need to look her up later. Find out what was really going on with her, if he could manage it. A good distraction from Ozpin’s strangeness, he decided, staff in hand as he followed her.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“I see ruins ahead, and people waiting there.” He called out after another hour’s journey, stopping at the edge of a wide, clear swathe of grass that stretched for at least a hundred yards from where he stood opposite the ruins, and twenty yards wide from the middle. Turning to look at the only mildly worn woman, he added with a wide, satisfied smile. “I believe we’ve finally found what we’re looking for, Pyr.”

“Then let’s collect our relic, so we can head back.” She suggested, stepping past him and out of the cool, ever present shade they’d been under for their trek and into the warm sun of early afternoon. “It’s been several hours. I wonder where everyone else is? We’re missing several people…”

“Perhaps they came and left, or haven’t come yet.” He suggested, knowing for some the truth would be rather more unfortunate. The Mistralian must have too, for she fell silent and still, her emotions tinging the Force around her dark. Gently, he laid a hand on her shoulder and added, “Don’t dwell on others you can’t help. Focus on the now, and-”

“Nora!” He blinked, looking a couple feet past the woman who turned to follow his gaze, watching an Ursa limp weakly out of the trees and collapse, a woman rolling off its back and coming up in a ‘T’ shaped pose with a grin while another man rushed to catch up with her, panting, “Never. Again. Nora.”

“I mean, it’s broken, Renny. I can’t ride a broken Ursa, can I?” He groaned and shook his head, and the woman glanced ahead of them. “Oh! The things!”

“Nora, don’t- And she’s gone again.” The man sighed, straightened, and then gave them a nod before rushing off after her with an angry yell of, “Nora!”

“They seem... Energetic, to say the least.” Pyrrha observed, head tilted curiously as she lead him through the clearing. 

 

“Hm.” He nodded but followed silently, watching either side of the clearing as they walked towards the ruins in case any Grimm were attracted by the noise. Or the aggravation the blonde seemed to feel, judging by the literal explosion of fire that lit her up. Sensing movement high above he blinked and turned, looking up at the familiar presence, “Ruby Rose?”

For a moment, all he saw was the lazily circling Giant Nevermore - which Pyrrha saw too, giving up a warning cry for the others - before he saw the specks on it. Red and white, hanging onto it desperately like ticks on the side of a massive animal. Suddenly, something must have happened, for the red one slipped off and down, falling away rapidly. His eyes widened as he connected the dots and slammed his saber into its sheath, reaching out towards the girl with his hands and the Force both. 

“Jaune, what are you-”

“Silence, please, I have to focus or she could die.” She was spinning now, trying to control her fall with her scythe and failing for some reason. He felt shame from Pyrrha and chided himself, but could not do anything for it at the moment. 

Instead he took a breath and let the Force flow through him, reaching out to the spinning, flailing girl as panic set in. Thirty feet from the ground, he began to slow her descent, wary of stopping her and turning her insides into Ruby jam. Instead he slowed her steadily and repeatedly, until she finally, more gently, thumped on the ground with a huff and muted whine of bruises taken. 

“Ow…” She rolled onto her side and blinked up at him, “Oh hi, Jaune.”

“Hi, Ruby.” He looked up at the circling Nevermore, kicking side to side haphazardly, and sighed. When he looked back to the girl, she was standing on wobbly legs and smiling sheepishly as he asked, “I suppose your partner is on the big, angry, Grimm bird?”

“M-Maybe...” His brow rose in disbelief and feigned judgement and she waved her hands in front of her anxiously, like she was trying to swat his concerns away. “Weiss just… Has to figure out a way down, like I did.”

“You figured out nothing. If I had not caught you, you would have been a smear on the ground.” He pointed out dryly, watching the bird continue circling and trying to toss the white-dressed girl off with every turn. 

“B-But you did catch me!” She pointed out with a weak, nervous grin, pointing a finger at him like she’d caught him out. When he elected not to respond, instead simply crossing his arms, she nodded in victory and simply added, “She’ll be fine.”

“Or she’ll fall, hoping I’ll catch her like I caught you.” He offered, watching the little white speck do exactly that, angling towards their cluster of bright colors like a target. Which, set against the unending greens of the forest, was a smart enough decision in the end, he supposed. “Son of a Grimm… Pyr, will you and Ruby collect our relic while I collect Ruby’s partner?”

“I don’t mind.” She nodded, turning and leading the nervous little Rose towards the relic site. 

Catching Weiss was merely an act of repetition, but one that he got halfway through before realizing the Nevermore wasn’t distracted anymore. Now it didn’t have a girl sized hijacker hanging onto it, its circling became more gentle, and its shrieks less annoyed and more predatory. 

“Thank you, Jaune Arc, right?” The pale, small woman grunted when he caught her in his arms like a knight might a princess and knelt, letting her stand and dust herself off primly. He nodded and rose, opening his mouth to explain the situation, but she was already speaking again. “I read about your story in Atlas, a year back. You’re impressively powerful, and strong willed to have-”

“The Nevermore is screeching for more Grimm, Weiss.” He pointed out, pointing a finger towards the heavens and the circling creature with an exasperated sigh. The woman blinked and nodded, flushing slightly as she did. He chalked the mistake up to adrenaline, something Instructor had told him about a dozen times in training, and then moved on without comment. “We need to form up with the others, decide on a course of combat action ahead of the Grimm arriving.”

“We should run, head for the extraction point.” She argued quickly, turning and walking quickly with him towards the others, all of whom were watching the Nevermore overhead warily. “Killing the Grimm isn’t our job, just getting the relics is.”

“If we run, we have to fight in the forest.” He pointed out simply, adding after a second to see if she would argue that, “And if too many come, a Bullhead will have difficulty landing on trees.”

She didn’t argue and, together, they walked as quickly as they could without draining their stamina to the others. Trying to make a plan would be arduous, with so many people he barely knew and so many weapons he didn’t know at all. But Instructor had made him learn to plan on the spot, with what he had, and he wasn’t about to fail his first live fire test. That would just be… Disappointing.

“Can any of you kill the Nevermore?” He asked as soon as they reached the grip, pointing up at it with a long finger. “Because it’s calling Grimm to it right now, and in a minute it will start strafing us with feathers and they’ll run into the clearing and see us.”

“I can hit it, yeah.” Ruby shrugged, the others exchanging glances with each other and the Grimm, circling high above and shrieking once again. “But at that range, even my armor piercing rounds won’t punch through. I’m sorry.”

“Shotguns and flares, too short range.” The blonde woman said with a hand on a cocked hip, lavender eyes watching the Grimm detachedly. As if in after thought, she waved a hand between herself and the silent, dark-clothed woman just behind her and added, “I’m Yang, by the way. This here’s Blakey, and she uses a pistol. So she won’t be all that much help with it up there either.”

“A grenade launcher and personal defence weapons.” He noted, not even asking the other two about their ability to reach it. Those weapons wouldn’t be able to do anything until it was grounded. “I know your names, Nora and Renny, right? I’m Jaune Arc.”

“It’s just-”

“Don’t interrupt him, Renny. He’s planning~” Nora grinned, wrapping one arm around her friend’s shoulders and pulling him against her shoulder, here grenade launched held hanging towards the ground in one hand. “If you can get it down, I can smash it.”

“Call me Ren, please.” He said anyway, the girl pouting bubt not countermanding what he said.

“All right.” He knew his partner’s weapon couldn’t do it either, and so he turned to Weiss who bowed her head in shame, hand tightening on her rapier as she forced out, “I am not suited for this. My Glyphs can support people, but I don’t have anything that would help against a Giant Nevermore.”

“I’ll ground it when it comes in to attack, then.” He said simply, turning without waiting for an argument to be made and looking up at where the Relics had been stored. “Weiss, you said that your Glyph ability could support people?”

“Yes.”

“Ruby and Weiss, get up on the raised platform. Use the high ground advantage to support all sides of the fight.” Her rifle would make quick work of Grimm coming in, and whatever Weiss could do to support them, it would make the fight easier and not spread out their formation too much. “Nora, you can deal a lot of damage? You mentioned smashing, so I’m assuming you’re good in melee too?”

“Yep!” With a flick her handle slid back and elongated, a massive war hammer taking form, the heavy head thudding against the ground while the woman leaned a foot on it. Ren seemed to see his chance, and edged a bit away from her, closer to Blake beside Yang. Grinning, the exuberant ginger bragged, “I can smash just ‘bout anything with my baby here.”

“Pyrrha, you and her are our front line until I ground the Nevermore, and I’ll join you then. You take center rank. Good?” The Mistralian nodded simply, understanding without a need for explanation why she’d be in their center line. “Yang, what can you do? You mentioned shotgun?”

“I’m a brawler, my gauntlets are chambered to fire red Dust flares for mid range and buckshot for close.” Almost as though to demonstrate, she slammed her fists forward in a pantomime of how he supposed she fought, bouncing on her feet and cocking the weapons like a shotgun. “Want me up front?”

“Yes, yes I do.” She nodded and, finally, he turned to the last two. Blake and Ren exchanged looks, holding their weapons slightly to the side and turned so he could see them, in an effort to help him plan he guessed. “I’m assuming you two are more… Support fighters? Get in, deal damage, get away kind of situation?”

“Yes.” They chorused, both quieter than any of the others. And both, he noted, reeked of a kind of calm that came from experience taking orders. 

“Then take second line, in between Weiss and Ruby’s and the front.” Where they could intercept any Grimm that got through, but also flash into the fight to help wherever a problem arose. “Does anyone have any problem with what I have planned out? Any at all? Speak now, if you do, or-”

Overhead, the Nevermore shrieked, and he grimaced, sighing and finishing, “Speak now, because in a few minutes we won’t have time for it.”

No one voiced a complaint and, at his nod, they all began to file up the steps, Jaune leading the smallest women up to the platform and sitting to meditate. To focus his Semblance, he answered when Weiss asked what he was doing, and after that only silence and shrieking could be heard while he let himself drift in the ocean of the Force. They didn’t have much time before he heard the Pyrrha call out. 

“Feathers!” She warned, and true enough he opened his eyes and deflected one up and behind him, so the quill cast him in shade. A dark shadow passed over them as the Grimm made its pass and turned to circle around and come back. 

Ahead of them, past the lined up initiates on the stairs, he heard the baying and roaring of Grimm. Not too many to count or discern, but enough that they would all have a hard fight ahead of them. With a small grin, he rolled his neck until it popped and stood, Force flowing down his arms. 

“Let’s do this, then…”

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Will craft Nex :

Yeah, I elected not to do that. The sister, excepting Saphron obviously, aren’t that important to this stage of the story. However, I am truly grateful for your confidence in my abilities. 

Alex Sakurai :

About one of those abilities… Hinted at in this chapter. Maybe be able to spot it, if you look close. XD

Captain Dick Scratcher : 

Sorry, spoilers. I can’t elaborate on that. XD

Sentinal Slice :

His Semblance will be a *minute*, but it will show eventually. And likely be different, possibly. Or be used differently. 

Void Death’s Harbinger : 

Yep. 

You and two others always sodding guess what I plan on doing the chapter before I ruddy do it. XD

Rood. 

Lord owl : 

His father unlocked it in Chapter Four, I believe, so he’d pass Hunter requirements. 

Wyatt Moore :

Oh you love me.

Bukkake No Jutsu :

Making? No. Maybe tweaking at some point? Maaaaybe. 

Talon Ibn La Ahad :

I WILL BAN YOUR ASS FROM PREDICTIONS I SWEAR TO OUM- 

Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t yell. XD

Yeah, I figured Saphron would make a good sacrifice to show the stakes of Remnant in this story. Jaune hurling Force powers is not a catch all, key to the kingdom, hook into winning a fight. Collateral damage is always possible, and he’s unable to keep his Aura up and use the Force at the same time even. So using it offers a lot of problems, for himself and those around him, that he is aware of and works round. As well as problems he is not aware of.

And yes, he harnessed lightning through raw passion. But it didn't do much more than spark on him as the Force moved. It’s not potent enough or controlled enough to be useful in fighting, yet. I can’t give him all the powers at the start or he won’t grow anywhere. XD

Now, who do you think will be Force Sensitive?

Adislt :

He senses something, here, but has no idea what it could be.


	7. Chapter 7

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Yang leapt high and cried out, driving a fist down and into an Ursa, ending its charge in a somersault that signalled its demise and that of a Creep that tried to scurry under it and was crushed by its weight. Another leapt for the blonde’s side and was blown away by a round from Blake’s sidearm, before she turned it on four more in turn, throwing them back into the frothing hordes of Grimm beyond their battleline before they could leap on her or Nora on her left side. Another Ursa lumbered towards her and she ducked, snapping a following, buckshot-backed fist into its knee and driving it onto its side, another burst of buckshot from her other gauntlet ripping into its skull before it could react. Turning, the woman ducked a clawed swipe aimed for her chest and lashed out in a bone shattering kick, cracking its ribs before a fist backed by fire blew its head, too, off entirely.

Beside her, Pyrrha danced back and forward, in and out of reach from Ursa to Beowolf both, and around the Creeps that sought to grip her thighs and slow her. Her sword and shield both flashed, bronze light in the darkness around her, in elegant, artistic lines through the air. Each flick, each thrust, each slash and cut crippling Grimm she could not kill outright without slowing and risking a strike, and slaughtering those she could with ruthless efficiency. Back and behind her, Ren sprayed short and wide lines of fire into Grimm, backing the Mistralian champion’s wounding blows with his own and doing the same for Yang, peppering lighter Grimm while she handled the heaviest of them. 

On Yang’s other side, Nora alternated between wide swings that crushed Grimm and hurled them back into their fellows to devastating effect, and launching grenades between punishing punches and kicks that crushed the Grimm underfoot and fist easily enough. The grenades flew high and far, blasting rock, dirt and Grimm shards into the air and the Grimm both, wherever they were foolish enough to cluster. Nora did just that and a Beowolf leapt for her, before a high caliber round from Ruby’s rifle blew its arm off and a Glyph crushed it to the ground under its own, gravity intensified weight. 

The smaller, younger woman turned, snapping rounds off into lighter armored Grimm wherever she saw them. Her partner matched her, Glyphs springing to life to shift the other fighters’ positions and both crushing and hurling Grimm aside wherever she thought necessary. High above, the Nevermore screeched and reared back, unleashing a tidal wave of massive quills on the battle below. Some skewered Grimm on the path to their battle line, but others flew straight, threatening them all. 

Without ever looking up and breaking his concentration, the Force warrior kneeling on the stone held a hand out, redirecting them dozens of massive quills down sharper, impacting ahead of the fighting line more safely or deflecting them to the side, into the forest. Rising, he reached out for the Nevermore before it could fly up and away, to come around in another pass and pass even further beyond his range of ability. 

“I thought the rocks would be a challenge…” He murmured, Ruby beside him sparing him a curious glance he quickly waved off with a hand. With a grunt, he reached out and up, eyes rolling back into his head as he let his very sight fade into the Force alone, casting the world around him in a fiery tempest of lights and darks of every description. The Grimm shrieked and colored the Force around it with panic as he tried to wrench its wing joints to either side and break them, breaking away from his control in a brief moment with a force on the young Force user like a rope pulled taut and snapped, the blond staggering forward and up awkwardly. “Damn it!”

“What’s wrong, Jaune?” Ruby asked, pausing to snap a shot off over her sister’s head, carving through an Ursa’s shoulder to stagger it back before it could get an attack in. Turning to him again, she reminded him in an ever-more urgent voice, “You said you could stop it. A-And it’s coming around for another pass, Jaune.”

“I know, I know. I need a way to get closer, it’s too high up for me to reach and moving… I don’t have time to meditate and extend my ranger.” And he needed an idea, grimacing and watching the Grimm circle, body flush with the Force enough to hurt and eyes aching from something he couldn't place. 

Finally, he looked across the battle line and blinked, shouting at the young Schnee where she stood searching for her next target as an idea flared to life in his mind, “Weiss, can you get one of its quills for me and get it up here?”

“Yes, but why on Remnant do you need me to get a quill up there for you?” The Schnee didn’t wait for his answer, though, a black glyph flickering above one and sending it hurling through the air, several white ones flickering and fading to slow it before it crashed into the stone and, panting and sweating, she turned to him, “Now w-what do you need this for?”

“I’m going to ride the feather up into the air, and leap to the Nevermore.” Both of the young woman’s eyebrows rose and he waved her off, asking simply, “Can you do it? It just needs to get within a hundred feet or so.”

“I… Suppose so, perhaps if I can... Let me think for a moment.” She turned, looking up behind them, and then back towards the fighting line, searching for something. Nodding, she turned back and explained, “I need something elastic enough to attach to those columns, the feather can sit on that while I aim and a glyph should more than do to hold it. You ride it up and deal with the Nevermore, and all should resolve itself.”

“Sensing a but there…”

“...But, the only thing here usable for that I am aware of is Blake’s ribbon, and Ren will have to replace Nora or Yang in the line to secure the other end.” She glanced to Ruby and, with a grimace, added, “Unless you can?”

“I can.” Ruby nodded, standing and inverting her scythe, giving the young woman a curt nod and a wide, beaming smile, “See ya later, partner!”

“You insufferable, juvenile- This is not the time for you asinine little assertions about our relationship, or delusions that we-” The young Rose shot off with a flurry of petals in her wake before the Schnee could finish, the girl half-shouting in distaste, “And we are not partners, you-you childish little cretin!”

The girl landed behind Nora and ducked past her, spinning like a twister through the Grimm and dismembering all those in reach. She and Nora fought together for a moment before the ginger backed out, batted away a pursuing Grimm, and rushed to Blake’s side. Another pause as she explained the situation happened then, and the two rushed to them as another, fresh pack of Beowolves rushed into the clearing, lured by the Nevermore’s cries and the sounds of fighting both. 

Without a word for him, the two parted, Blake handing her weapon off to the hammer wielding woman to wrap around a pillar of stone while she ran across to another of the few that were sturdy looking enough to warrant this kind of insane idea. Using the Force to pull the ribbon taut with one hand and lifting the quilled feather with another, Jaune held it against the ribbon until Weiss’ glyph pinned it in place. At a curt nod, sweat beading on the girl’s brow while her rapier trembled in his hand, he climbed onto the feather and laid across it, saber held in one hand while the other gripped the thick stem of the feather. 

“Whenever you're-ready, Arc.” Weiss grunted from behind him, the blonde warrior sparing her a glance to nod. “If this k-kills you, I don’t want to hear a t-thing. Understand?”

“Fire, Weiss.” He said by way of answer, the young woman more than happy to oblige. And, from what he could tell by how she collapsed to the stone, unable to hold it any long. 

Like an arrow shot from a bow, he soared high into the air on an intercept course with the Nevermore, the wind ripping at him as he went. Using his own strength and the Force both, he held fast, finally reaching the apex of his arc high above the Nevermore and feeling gravity try and hurl him further still. This time, he let inertia do its work, and soard up into the air over the feather. Using the Force instead of his eyes, long since squeezed shut against the wind, he felt out the presence of the Nevermore and hurled himself towards it. Only when he was close did he squint his eyes open to see, through eyes blurred by wind-whipped tears, his hand igniting his saber as he sailed past the monster, who shrieked upon seeing him. 

A sound that ended as, arm outstretched, he let inertia and gravity carve the hissing end of his weapon through its skull deep enough for the top to entirely separate. Robbed of life and mind both, the Grimm began to fall, and he went with it, albeit further out and towards the forest. He was surprised when he felt a tug on his back yank him towards the battle and turned. Again he felt a tug, a little black glyph flickering on his chest just below his chin. 

Weiss’ glyphs steered and the Force slowed him until, rolling and grunting with the impact - and ignoring the flare of pain all along his back besides - he came to a stop behind the fighting line and turned. A Beowolf’s arm flew back as he leapt and his saber cut, its head following a moment after before with a shout he blasted the Grimm away in a wide cone ahead of them. His team launched into combat without hesitation, leaping onto Grimm like warriors of old, pinning them under heels and beheading, crushing or gunning them down in turn, turning their weapons on their fellows as soon as their targets died. Now free of the bestial reinforcements that had been called before, or aerial assault from their caller for that matter, they pushed forward and through, cutting apart and down and Grimm they came across. 

Five more minutes, and a pair of disparate Grimm packs later, they finally came to a panting, sweating end of their battle. 

“So, what,” Ruby began, kneeling on the ground and sucking air between her words, “do we do now? I-I think we passed Initiation, that was a-a lot of Grimm.”

“Yes, and we slew them easily and admirably enough to satisfy anyone who could possibly have the right to voice words on the matter.” Pyrrha complimented, standing straighter than anyone else beside a fallen Ursa, the only sign of the exhaustion he sensed being her leaning on her spear. A spear which, he noted knowing, had been a sword moments prior. “You had some good plans, Jaune.”

“Always been quick on my feet.” He shrugged, rolling the soreness out of his shoulder and, safe now, focusing his Aura into soothing the mild aches and pains. Raising his voice, he called out, “Anyone hurt? Everyone okay?”

There were cuts and bruises among most of them, himself included, but they were healing under their Aura already so he let it be. Satisfied and bored, now, waiting for their pickup or more Grimm, they began to break apart and wander the grass fields, away from the fighting place if only to avoid the smoke. Smoke that, no doubt, would be seen by the Beacon observers watching them, who would be on their way here even now to see what could possibly have happened here.

Assuming they hadn’t been watching them the whole time, that was.

Sighing, Jaune sat against a tree with his legs folded under him and his hood drawn, watching the sky while he rested and murmuring, “Well. At least this didn’t end up with someone dismembered…”

“Have you fought the Grimm often?” Pyrrha asked, standing and leaning against the tree behind him, her spear in her hand while she watched the woods warily for both their sakes. In the moment before he could answer, she rushed to add, as though worried he would retort sharply, “You mentioned ‘this time’ with significance, which implies other times, is the only reason I ask. You don’t need to discuss it, though, if it upsets you.”

“I see.” Was that concern for him, or pragmatism to avoid upsetting him and drawing black, fur laden attention, he was getting from her? After a moment he dismissed the suspicion and shrugged simply, “You said you know about me from the news, right?” She nodded and he went on, “Then you know I lived out on the Frontier, and fought Grimm that attacked my settlement. I also rangered in the woods, hunting Grimm, though, and you might not have known that from the news.”

“I did not, no, and… Given my background, I don’t put much stock in what news and journalists like to peddle as fact.” He gave her a sidelong glance, one brow raised, and she shrugged noncommittally when he paused and she turned to look at him, “I’m a champion fighter, in Mistral, and known throughout the Kingdoms, though I do not enjoy it being dwelt on. I experienced my share of tabloids and articles, Jaune.”

“I can see that, yeah.” He nodded, offering her a small smile, “Tell you what, Pyrrha. You don’t hold my tabloids against me, and I won’t hold yours against you either. Deal?”

“That is a deal I can certainly accept, yes.” He offered a hand, tapping the outside of her thigh for her attention, the woman giving it a look before smiling and taking it, shaking it gently with a small laugh that she demurely hid behind the haft of her spear. Turning back, she added in a quiet tone, “I’m glad that we all survived the battle with the Grimm. Against a Nevermore of that size, if some of us had died here… That would have been normal, no?”

“It would have been.” He agreed quietly, eyeing the man-sized feathers it had launched at them three times in an effort to kill them. “But my Semblance let me protect us from them, and everyone was more than capable of killing the Grimm it summoned with its… Incessant shrieking.”

“Indeed. They are all skilled combatants, and it was an absolute pleasure to fight with them and you alike.” She turned at a low thrum, looking up as a trio of small, Beacon patterned Bullheads loomed down from the cliffs and circled the wide clearing for a place to land. A place that was conspicuously easy for them to find, given the clearness of the area. “It appears our ride has arrived, for our return journey.”

It had certainly taken them long enough, somehow allowing their entire battle against a small hoard of likely nearing a hundred leser Grimm and one superior, flying one. He didn’t voice the complaint - or the suspicions behind it, for that matter, and there were plenty of those to be certain - to his partner as he stood, instead giving her a small smile and then scanning the various pieces of bone plating for anything interesting. 

Seeing nothing worth looking at, he remarked dryly, “Well, let’s not keep them waiting. They might decide to leave us here, and I am far too done with Grimm for the day to let that happen. Shall we, Pyrrha?”

“Of course.” She nodded, adding in a quieter tone, “And… Call me ‘Pyr’, please. I rather liked the nickname when you said it previous.”

The ride back was… A surprisingly muted affair, really, the group of children still impossibly anxious over whether they would pass the tests they’d been put through well enough. He knew, of course, that they had. If only because their only objective had been accomplished, unless you counted not dying as part of the test. Which they’d still accomplished, so the addition didn’t make much difference to him.

‘Thinking in circles gets you nowhere but dizzy, Jaune.’ He chided himself, turning back to his partner when he sensed her gaze on him and offering her a small nod that she returned, turning to listen politely to Nora beside her rattling off a story about her part of Initiation. ‘Energetic, but tolerable. If only for the amusement.’

Content, he let his eyes close and the Force take him where it would while they journeyed back to Beacon.

“Your formation was rushed, and had holes in it, but… Given the frankly rushed nature of the conflict at hand, and the lack of a true answer to the Giant Nevermore besides, I don’t see any reason to belabor the strategies you used. You will have classes for that soon enough, in any event.” The Headmistress was as chilly and beautiful as he remembered, if in that more intimidating and powerful kind of way that belied it, as he remembered. “Though I will endeavor to get across the need for anti-air stratagems that don’t include flinging yourself into said air to get at the target.”

All she got for that was awkward snicker, that seemed to aggravate her to no end, from the more, er, energetic of their group.

“Honestly, the nerve of you all… A genuine shame you didn’t take a few licks to teach you some sense.” Though he caught her probing, worried gazes as they assembled at the docks for ‘debrief’ upon their return. Green eyes flicked across each of them inspectingly, looking for wounds not yet healed by Aura. Which kind of deflated the edge her tone held as she continued in as blaise a fashion as she could manage, “Though in future, and I stress this more than you might hear, I should note that retreat is always an option.”

“If we’d done that, we were worried the Grimm would pursue us into the woods and hit us from every angle where we couldn’t maneuver.” He pointed out, more than happy to force her attention onto him instead of Ruby, who had started squirming anxiously the moment the Headmistress turned glinting green eyes on her. She turned to him and, hedging his bets, he added further, “We also figured the Nevermore would sense us by our anxiety when we did get caught out, or just anxiety at the risk of getting caught, and fire on us where we couldn’t see it to dodge or know it was coming.”

“Only a fool would give up all their advantages in combat.” Pyrrha, saint that she was, added from beside him. She didn’t look at the older Huntress, staring straight ahead instead like she was in the military, but he sensed her the Force reverberate with satisfaction at… Something. “So rather than run, pray to the Gods that we could outpace them, and in all likelihood be beset upon in disadvantageous terrain, we held advantageous terrain and took the attack.”

“It was still foolish. Especially as inexperienced in combating the Grimm as you all-”

“I’m sorry, Headmistress, but I am pretty experienced in fighting Grimm.” And he wasn’t even going to let her act like he didn’t. He was trained to be calm and accepting of whatever came, and to avoid vapid pridefulness, of course. But in the same vein, he was trained to take proper pride in his skills and abilities. “I trained to fight them for years, in the field, and spent the last year in Ansel training and rangering in the woods. I fought plenty of Grimm in that time, and knew good terrain when I saw it.”

A bit more lie in his words than he enjoyed but it did the trick, the woman grimacing but nodding curtly, “I disapprove of you interrupting me, but… A fair point nonetheless. And since it was your plan, I suppose credit is due for deferring to a more experienced compatriot at the scene.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, and I’m sorry for-”

“Which means the reprimand lies with you as well for the lunacy of hurling yourself into the air in the hopes of killing the Nevermore. What if your weapon had not pierced its armor?” She cut in, the blonde’s mouth clicking shut while those around him inched away from him. Or more accurately, her ire at him. Even Pyrrha took the smallest hair’s breadth away from him, and ignored the pointed look her sent her way for it.

‘It’s treason then,eh, Pyr?’ He grimaced, but turned back to the expectant, older woman with a small sigh, “Respectfully, Ma’am, there’s almost nothing that my saber can’t cut through. It’s… Special, like that.”

“I’ve heard that song and dance many times, Mister Arc.” She chided, shaking her head and sighing gently, “Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer, Mister Arc. Never, ever forget that. The moment you are comfortable is the moment you just may lose a life. Be it yours, or those around you or under your care.”

“As you say, Headmistress.” The point didn’t bare arguin, really, and he wasn’t in the mood for it even if he could find a reason to try. Fighting Grimm was fun, flying back with three excited chatterboxes was distinctly less so. “What else is needed, here, Ma’am? I’m sure we all would enjoy even a brief rest.”

“The cafeteria is down the hall, as you went to get to the auditorium previous, but further still and in the next building.” She turned, directing their attention from the docks - where they had landed today and the day before both - past one massive building where they’d slept the night before to another, this one with entire walls made if tall windows. “You are among the last to find a Relic location and be picked up, so I suggest hurrying along so you may eat while team assignments and naming conventions.”

“A Relic location.” Ruby murmured, loud enough for the question to be heard even if she still shied away from the Headmistress’ sharp, questioning gaze. Standing her ground as much as she seemed willing to, the youngest of the group explained, “Y-You said it like there were other locations, Headmistress. Were there?”

“Of course. With the disparate spreading of students across the Initiation grounds, there were three separate locations to ensure the forty or so hopeful partner pairs actually had enough Relics to recover.” Though, judging by the three exhausted looking children across the way waiting wit their luggage and emanating sadness into the Force around them, not all had managed to get their Relics after all. The Headmistress stepped into his line of sight and smiled thinly, “Not all who venture gain, young man. They may try again next year, and likely will.”

“I, uh, yeah.” He hadn’t meant to be staring at them, even if he’d known that they were too distracted and wrapped up in their own heads - deservedly - at the moment to really notice anything. For the woman’s benefit, he shrugged and asked, “You mentioned food?”

“I did, Yes. Hurry along, now, the team naming ceremony will be conducted inside an hour or two.” She waved a hand for him to head along and he did, walking with his group towards the cafeteria while the more excitable team members talked.

Pushing open the great doors into the cafeteria, they were met with a wall of sound and emotion, students celebrating now that they were together and being fed. Being actually hosted like this, with hot food and a bustling staff tending to injuries and feeding them luxuries, told the students there they’d passed. Or, maybe, one of the disparate and celebrating groups had been told as much and the celebration they started had carried on and welcomed more students coming in.

That they’d seen rejects - and only three of them at that, which spelled something bad out plainly given the even numbered groups they were placed in - outside with their things only added to the certainty. 

“Pancakes!” He flinched, before he felt an arm around his shoulders, the ginger in their group tugging him and his partner along excitedly. All the thile, rattling in his ear, “Renny makes the best pancakes, you know. He has this recipe with acorns and stuff that is just straight out to kill for!”

“I-Is the saying not ‘to die for’, Nora?” Pyrrha managed to get out, between the girl’s excited giggles and the rest of the noise around them. 

“Not when I’m involved it isn’t.” She grinned and shrugged, letting them go finally to grab them all plates while the others caught up. Shoving one into each of their hands, and keeping two for herself, she crowed, “Come on guys! Let’s eat! Nothing like sweet pancakes after a fun day of playing with Grimm.”

“Don’t you mean-”

“She doesn’t.” Ren cut in gently, smiling like a man with the patience of a saint and experience with it being tested. Taking one of her plates, he started heaping up pancakes for her and added, “Nora always says what she means.”

“Yep!” She bounced on her heels, mind clear of any less than innocent thoughts that might have crossed the minds of adrenaline fueled teenagers around them at that, and aggressively - somehow - handed off her plate when Ren reached for it. “Bananas! Ren, look, there’s-”

“I know.”

“And strawberries!”

“I love strawberries!” Ruby chimed in, sliding past him and grabbing the plate Ren offered her without even sparing her a glance, grabbing the metal spoon in the big bowl of them and heaping a pile on her plate. “They’re so sweet and yummy. Oh! Strawberry pancakes?! Those exist?!”

Yet again a cute young woman started bouncing early on her feet, and yet again he sensed the attention of hormonal youths of both genders and species focusing on them. This time, though, he turned and met their gazes, sending an eerie sensation of foreboding through the Force around him. Their minds weren’t built to discern the Force, of course, but they still felt his foreboding, Force backed threat of nondescript suffering and pain if they kept trying to peek up his team member’s skirts. To them, no doubt, it was like ice had lodged itself in their stomachs, along with the threat of a slow and painful death the only kind of which they could anticipate from very specific, rare Grimm.

Needless to say, if there were any peeks between the folds of Ruby’s skirt, or up Pyrrha’s or Nora’s, none saw it. 

“What?” He asked when he turned back and caught Pyrrha watching him, holding a plate twice the size of a normal one and packed full of pancakes, sausage and bacon. He took the offered meal and, when she didn’t respond, asled, “Why are you staring, Pyr?”

“You’re protective of the girls.” She observed simply, trailing behind the rest of their loud group as Nora or Ruby led them to somewhere to sit, towards the back of the room near the door. Furthest away from the food, too, but that was probably why it was empty. “I can see it, in the way you keep glaring at anyone that looks our way. There’s a heat there.”

“I have seven sisters. Comes naturally to me, I guess.” He shrugged, letting them all choose their seats ahead of joining them and adding in a lower tone, to not interrupt Nora’s excited ‘Ursa taming’ story retelling. He’d been there, for her arrival, but apparently she’d sent the Grimm back into the forest with a wave of her hand and ‘her mystical Nora-ness’. “Besides, I don’t mind putting the fear of the Dark Side into these pathetic little tools if they think their hormones overrule you all’s privacy.”

“Aww, you are so sweet!” He blinked as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and he was pulled flush against soft skin, staring down into the rift between Yang’s… Assets for a moment before pulling back while she sniggered, “Oh my, Birdboy, looks like you are the pervert here~!”

“I am not!” He scowled, ignoring the sniggers across the table and raising a finger meaningfully, “And my name is not ‘Birdboy’. It’s Jaune.”

“Whatever you say, Birdboy.” He groaned but the other blonde just laughed. A loud, boisterous sound that continued even when Jaune none-too-gently jabbed a fork down into his food to eat. 

“What's the Dark Side?” Pyrrha asked when Yang had returned to teasing someone else - her sister, judging by the way the little brunette scrunched down and hid her face behind a hand while she ate - and they’d eaten a bit, since both of them were more than hungry enough to put off any kind of chat for some food. 

“You mentioned it in the same way one would ‘put the fear of Oum’ or the Grimm, or the Brothers.” She answered when he gave her a curious look, the blonde chidin himself for the slip as soon as she said it. It must have shown on his face, for Pyrrha’s eyes blinked wider and she held up a hand, awkwardly laughing and waving the question off, “I-It’s none of my business, I suppose. If you would rather your privacy I won’t mind, Jaune. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Pyr, it’s… Fine.” He said, taking a couple pieces of syrupy pancake and using it like the biscuit to his sausage, chewing on it and grabbing a drink of water while he thought. First about whether or not to say anything, second about what to say when he decided to. The better not to flare tensions early, and control what she knew and how she perceived it. 

“Scooch.” With a hand, he gestured for her to slide down a bit and she did, the blonde subtly moving the Force to direct attention away from himself with practiced ease when he saw the others start to turn to them. Now they were a bit further away, and his words would be lost in the sound of the cafeteria, he started to explain, “The Dark Side is half of the Force, which is- Which I believe, rather, to be an energy that suffuses life around us. The Dark Side is all about passion and emotion, and its counterpoint is about naturality and control, letting things be what they are and acceptance of them.”

“So it’s a religion?”

“Yeah.” It worked as a description, anyway. “I use it to focus my Semblance, since it’s… Mental, how mine works.”

“I see.” Her eyes flicked between hem and the space he’d put between himself and the others and she blinked, mouth forming a little ‘o’ of realization. “You do not wish the others to hear about this.”

“No.”

“May I ask why, or would that be… Insensitive?” The question was innocent, and posed with a fragility that made him wonder what she thought he’d do to her for asking. 

“Stop stressing out for no reason, Pyr.” He rolled his eyes and sighed, the woman giving him a sidelong glance while he ripped his bacon into little strips and pitched them into his mouth, thinking up a good enough excuse not to want the terms spread around. “In my settlement, race and religion never mattered. Out here, though, it does. People get harassed and heckled just for having different kinds of ears, or a tail, or something.”

Amber eyes flicked to his but returned to the others’ conversation before he could meet them, and he sighed, adding in finish, “I don’t want that kind of attention, you know? I’m here to learn to protect people, not… Put up with assholes that don’t tolerate wrong-think about the gods, or whatever.”

“I understand that, I suppose.” She nodded, and through the Force he knew she didn’t really understand what he was on about, but sympathised with wanting to be left alone well enough to make up the difference. After a moment, she added, “Though, you should be open with your friends, in future. They will accept you, if they were ever your friends in the first. And better not to build on false pretenses.”

With that, she turned back to her food and began eating, now content to ignore him entirely and leave him to his own thoughts. After a moment, and with a small shrug, he turned to his own food and let the matter lie. Instead, he was content to wait until, eventually, the naming ceremony came and he could see his new lodgings.

He wouldn’t have to wait long for that, he was sure.

The naming ceremony was relatively simple and fast, enough so for no one to have much time to complain. They were gathered in the auditorium again, lined up in their teams - the obvious ones, of course, based on who picked similar pieces from the same locations - and told the order they’d be called in. Then they’d been filed to one side while other, older students came in to watch the ceremony quietly. It took less than half an hour, with only eleven new successful teams for the year formed. The number struck him as odd, though he knew there were other, lesser Academies and paths to being a Hunter. 

The names themselves, though, struck him as even odder. 

“Juniper is an… Acceptable enough designation.” Pyrrha countered gently as they made their way to their dorms, dressed in Beacon uniforms now and sporting grey, Beacon issued and Hunter-suited backpacks full of their school supplies and changes of uniform. As well as their luggage, though that had been heaped on a trolley Nora was pretending to be a horse pulling. “It’s a… Strong name.”

“It’s a type of berry and tree.” He argued gently, smiling ever-so-slightly to show there was no heat meant in his words. The woman got the message and rolled her eyes in amusement, chuckling under her breath, and he added, “I just figured we’d get better names than plants, Pyr.”

“A Juniper tree is beautiful and strong, and lives a long life.” Ren offered in a sage way, a single hand raised, finger to the sky, as he spoke. In a way, Jaune decided, he reminded the young Force wielder of Instructor, albeit far less sadistic. “Naming us after such a beautiful, strong tree is clearly the Headmaster’s way of saying he has faith that this team will stand long and strong, as a beautiful display of the Academy’s tutelage.”

“They named us after me!” Ruby called, leading her team just behind them. Eyebrows raised, he turned his gaze on Ren, and the man shrugged simply. 

“Ren doesn’t have an answer to that one, I guess, Ruby.” Jaune called back with a derisive little snort and shake of his head. After a minute, he sighed and wondered idly, “You think they let us change our team names if we ask nicely enough, Pyr?”

“What would you even name our team?” She asked quietly, smiling but shaking her head. He shrugged and her eyes rolled, “Leave the name be, partner-mine. It’s not so terrible, and were I to be frank, I prefer it to whatever other copper bottomed idea they might come up with to replace it.”

“Fine, fine, since you like it so much.” Again, she rolled her eyes at him, but he ignored her and flicked his eyes from one side of the hall to the other, and then looked to his Scroll to check while Ren tried to prevent Nora attempting to run Pyrrha down. Key word there being tried, of course, though the Mistralian ignored the little prod of the trolley’s handle on her hip well enough. “Ah, here we are, guys. Time to decorate, I guess?”

Inside, the room was relatively Spartan, considering Beacon’s standing and the normal decor levels equally. Four simple enough looking beds, the nice headboards notwithstanding of course, with equally nice dressers to one side and bed-tables on the other. Two of the beds were lined against one wall to the left of the door, the other under the windows across the room from them. They were painted a nice red, with white trimmings and a muted, dark carpet over the floor that Jaune found appealing enough to tolerate. And a flick of the Force pulled the curtains closed, leaving the room in muted sunlight from outside, blocked mostly by the curtains now. 

The third wall was divided, between a wide, oaken bookshelf and a large room with a heavy door that screamed bathroom even for Jaune, who had spent so long under the mountain with his tiny little thing pf a bathroom as to have forgotten the concept of a grand thing like a sit-in tub until his return to Ansel. His had been made of cheap iron mined in Ansel with wooden walls and floors for the most part from the forest around the settlement, after the renovations they’d done to finally replace old and broken. This one, though, was normal porcelain, like any other bathroom in Vale could be expected to be. Against the wall the bathroom created, with their backs to the windows, were two sturdy, moderately large desks for working on, complete, even, with two small monitor screens they could hook their Scrolls to in order to make working a bit easier.

“It’s spacious enough.” Pyrrha was the one to comment, standing awkwardly and watching the other three mill about unsurely in the middle of the room. “So, hm, where, ah, where does everyone… Want to sleep?”

“Nora won’t sleep without me nearby.” Ren commented idly, Jaune’s brows knitting at the statement. He turned to look at the man, mouth open to ask, and he explained in clear brief, “Frontier kids, Jaune. And wanderers, for most of that time, from place to place. I would rather not get into it, but… We get anxious when we’re apart, so-”

They were cut off by Nora, who picked up the nightstand and dresser between two of the beds, one under each arm. Face flat, she moved to the middle of the room and set them down, grabbing the beds and pulling them together without comment. With an amused, kind of resigned roll of his eyes, Ren turned to pick up the lighter end table and move it out and into the hall where they’d been told maintenance would pick up any unwanted furniture, sitting the extra dresser beside the bathroom door. 

“I… Suppose that gives us the other beds, then.” Pyrrha shrugged, reaching by Ren - who was unloading their stuff while Nora bounced on her half of the bed they’d made - to grab her suitcase and start unpacking. Hesitating, she asked, “Corner or between the beds, do you have a preference?”

“Do you?”

“Not truly, no.”

“Then corner, if you really don’t care.” As far away as possible from Nora’s constant energy, as much as he may have liked it. And he did enjoy it, but eventually it would tax him, and Ren seemed more than happy to contend with it himself. She nodded without a question and, grabbing his stuff to unpack, he grunted a, “Thank you, Pyr.”

“Of course, Birdboy.” She smirked and he groaned loudly, unbuttoning his blazer and grabbing a change of clothes. It was late enough, after all, to get some rest. 

Tomorrow would be the start of actual classes after all.

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Void Death’s Harbinger :

It exists, only incredibly rarely and only on Mantle. Too rare for any practical uses. 

Phaedo Symposium :

It is, and will remain, a rare ability. And genetic. It would be more likely for Jaune’s family to be it than most anyone else, given he is. Beyond that basic agreement, I can’t say anything for spoilers. 

War Zone N7 :

And then he took the ULTIMATE high ground… THE SKY!

Bukkake no Jutsu :

Not yet, but not for lack of her liking it. I just haven’t had a good chance to actually show her doing it. As is, she’s barely seen it, really. Freaking out shall come later.

Talon Ibn La Ahad :

I despise you, that’s how you did. And I won’t even give you a reason, you get to flail at your entire prediction thread and guess. XD

I will confirm one thing - Cinder is not a Force user, nor are Salem or Ozpin. The Force was ‘dead’ on Remnant before the events of the Gods’ destruction of the planet at large. However, Magic and the Force are linked, in a sense and way I will eventually hint at more largely - and already have done, to an extent - and anyone with knowledge of The Clone Wars will soon be able to discern how.

Always love the Reviews~

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For those interested, Once a Rookie Always a Rookie had a chapter update I think was missed, as there have been zero hits on it. Just a note, there. FF can be wonky sometimes, so figured I’d mention it. 

References from last chapter -

The High Ground. ‘One is for Monsters’ from the Witcher. ‘Switch’ from SAO. The sand meme. ‘I am one with the Force, the Force is with me’.


	8. Chapter 8

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Life in Beacon was one he was thankfully prepared for, after his years of Instructors rigors and regimen. Classes started at seven o’clock, and breakfast was only served until six forty-five, presumably as much to ensure that every student had no excuse for being late to courses for the day as to make certain the cooks and cleaners could be reset before lunch break and, after, dinner. The workload they had to handle was similar a swell, minus the Force - and Sith, particularly - centered aspects of course such as the meditations and mind hardening Dark Side rituals. The Academy was split into several departments as well, each different though always related to combating the Grimm in some respect. 

Combat courses taught the obvious, in how to fight Grimm and Man alike, and hardened students against injury and pain in a way Instructor would have prided himself on. History courses taught lessons that learning naturally meant dying, along with sharpening the future fighter’s wits. Memorization and recitation of information bore one fruit, after all. A mind that could recall information quickly which, he knew, was a useful tool. ‘When in Mistral, do as the Mistralians do’ only worked if you could remember what Mistralians would do after all.

 

Then, there was Grimm studies. Which taught a wide variety of subjects and did so intensely, spread between three teachers with Professor Peter Port at the head for… Some reason. From normal, predictable Grimm armor patterns and their weaknesses, how to harvest Grimm plating for Hunt jobs that required trophy evidence - Wyverns and Goliaths for examples - since their corpses could dissolve quickly if their bodies were too damaged, and then...

“But I don’t want to write a paper on Grimm herding whatever, Renny!” There was the study of Grimm herds, their naturel movement patterns, and diversionary tactics to divert them. “I smash things, I don’t memorize the herding patterns of Beowolves!”

“Huntresses do.” Ren pointed out quietly, smiling pleasantly despite Nora’s exuberance as always. 

“Not on the weekends!”

“I do not believe that Huntresses get the weekends off, Nora.” Pyrrha offered gently, smiling as pleasantly as she could as tired as she clearly was from sparring class earlier in the day. In the same voice of polite exhausted, she went on, “In fact, the weekend is the best time to train and study both. No courses to take our time from us.”

“True.” Jaune nodded, actually considering for a while if they should do some training. Turning to his partner beside him and ignoring the pouting from the partner pair in front of him, he wondered aloud, “In fact, do you think using Saturday for some joint training drills would be-”

“Weekends are for relaxing! Resting! I reject the idea of weekend assignments!” Nora interrupted in her petulant, faux-serious way once the weekend reached them, and they retired with their weekend assignments between them and relaxation. As she had a couple times through the week, she bounced past her partner and his both, stopping in front of him and pouting, “Jauney, it’s okay for me to relax this weekend, right?”

“What Ren says goes, Nora.” He chided gently, the girl pouting with her arms crossed and eyes narrowing threateningly. Face flat, he shrugged and pointed out, “Unless you want to explain to the Headmistress why you don’t have your paper come Monday. Which you know what that will get you, and us. Right?”

“Yeah…”

“I wanna hear it, Nora. So I know you understand.” He sing-songed cheerily, smiling at the pouting girl while Pyrrha fought a laugh behind her, sitting on her bed and starting to unpack her books. Nora stubbornly grunted, pantomimed zipping her mouth shut, locking it, and throwing the ‘key’ away before ‘hmphing’ and turning to stare at the wall in defiance. Sighing, he rolled his eyes and turned to Ren, “How long do you think the paper will take us?”

“Working together? Thirty to forty minutes.” The man answered, accepting the primer and outline folder Pyrrha offered as he stepped by, headed to the desks to open it and skim while he talked. “The assignment is a team paper assignment, and only requires we detail common Grimm migratory passages around Vale’s external land. The mostly unclaimed territories, not the more settled, defended ones.”

“Nora, you go and get us food. Enough for all of us, not sweets,” her smile fell slightly at that addition, but she listened on dutifully regardless, “and drinks, too. Pyrrha, go with her, please. Make sure everything gets sorted right, and help her carry it back. Ren and I will get set up and started skimming the material.”

His command power over their team was, he knew, purely ceremonial outside a mission. And yet with some amount of pride, after so little time together, he watched the three move to do as he told without argument. Not a privilege he’d been easily granted, he knew, but rather one he enjoyed due to what they’d seen him do in Initiation. Faith placed temporarily was, after all, still faith. And he was humbled by it, even as it stoked his ego and fed his pride.

‘Balance.’ He reminded himself silently, helping his teammate lay out their books in a small circle on the floor for work. ‘In all things, a balance. Be humbled by their trust and be proud to have earned it. Breathe the contradiction, accept it as part and parcel of life.”

Instructor had taught him as much, and his lessons had not failed as yet.

The girls arrived thirty minutes later, the walk to the Academy kitchens and the wait as their food was made and paid for - Pyrrha was a saint for dealing with Nora’s appetite and the costs that bore - before they had to carry it all back to the rooms across the campus. Not that the two women minded much, really, arriving to their dorm with a half-dozen boxes of Beacon brand pizza in one of Nora’s hands, the smell of cinnamon and sugar from a brown bag in Nora’s other, and Pyrrha holding two little plastic trays of bottled grape and orange sodas one to each hand. The pizzas were distributed along with the little aluminium strays they’d sent along for them to eat off, and Ren explained as they ate. 

“Beowolf packs are, individually, typically relatively small. No more than a dozen lesser Beowolves underneath a leading Alpha Beowolf. These patrol what is presumed to be their territory, but don’t engage anything except for people when they do. Wolves, bears, other Grimm, the Beowolf packs will walk right by them without concern from either party.” Ren explained, his book open while he skimmed with one hand, other carefully keeping the food away from the book while he turned to take bites. “According to this, no one knows exactly why the Beowolf packs move the way they do. But they do know that they tend to rove around a mile from villages, settlements and three miles from the Kingdom’s walls. Though it’s not unheard of for them to notice people, low flying transports, whatever the case, and come in for a suicidal attack.”

“If they don’t even know why the Grimm herd the way they do, how are we supposed to-” Ren cut Nora off by kicking the bag of sugary cinnamon sticks closer to her, and she pounced on them with wide, excited eyes. She took one and started chewing on it, waving a hand and murmuring something incomprehensible at them that sounded like ‘I have food now’. 

Nora’s weakness, it seemed, was purely in shoving sweets at her and letting nature take its apparent course. ‘Not the worst weakness to have, really… Not like a Beowolf will bribe her attention away with a freshly baked cake or something.”

“So the paper is theoretical.” Jaune guessed, looking to Ren and lifting a slice of pizza towards his mouth, “They want us to guess based on evidence and offer our reasoning. Right?”

“It seems that way. You and I read the entire section on Grimm herds, herding tactics, and Grimm group psychology. There are others I doubt would be unimportant.” Ren shrugged and, for everyone’s benefit, offered, “I doubt Grimm trapping or trophy skinning would entail much about why Grimm move how they do, for instance.”

“More likely they’d prioritize how to construct traps and kill Grimm such that their bodies do not dust away.” Pyrrha offered, herself skimming her own textbook and offering, “It says here that perhaps the Grimm instinctively patrol the peripheries of settled land simply because packs that do not are quickly killed. Maybe such simplicity is the truth of things?”

“Let’s just write on that, then.” The exercise was probably more a test of their ability to think on their feet and make good guesses based on little information, after all. So the blonde Force wielder felt comfortable making the leap and jumping on that particular topic. “No one knows for sure what drives Grimm to their patterns, nature of the beast. .Literally. But we do know the basic evolutionary paradigms.”

“Herds and groups that die do so for mistakes or failings, and other packs that survive do so because they don’t make those mistakes.” Ren summarised, “Rinse, repeat, add a few decades and a species has adapted somewhat.”

“We’ve seen it in pigeons and dogs, why would Grimm be so different?” Pyrrha added supportively, Nora grunting and nodding aggressively on her other side, laid on her back now while she chewed on a sweet stick. Rolling her eyes and sliding an open pizza box around to rest against the back of Nora’s legs to block any accidents, Pyrrha went on, “I agree, let’s write on that. A simple enough topic, and once done we can enjoy our weekend together.”

“The first weekend as a team could be enjoyable to spend together.” Ren observed, raising his voice slightly, for Nora’s benefit and attention, “Maybe we could go see a movie and eat a dinner together?”

“Pruth Bilthis!” The girl shouted, sitting up sharply with wide, almost manically excited eyes. Ren and Jaune both shot her a meaningful glare and she giggled, swallowing hard to force the mouthful down. Finally, she repeated in an excited, sugar high voice, “The new Spruce Willis movie comes out on Sunday! A-And there’s that new superhero movie, too-”

“The Revengers.” Ren offered quietly, calmly scratching out notes ahead of their work to come. “I believe it’s the sequel to Stone Wars from a few years ago-”

“We have got to see that!” Nora crowed excitedly, bouncing where she sat like a child promised candy. Causing very not childlike reactions thanks to physics and her bouncing that had Pyrrha grabbing her shoulders to try and hold her still, the woman still rattling off ideas and trying to bounce all the while, “We could go out for pizza together, or maybe tacos, and grab some donuts on the way to the theater, and watch the movie, and-”

“We can talk out our plans after we’re done with our homework.” Jaune interrupted, slyly adding, “If you want to go out tomorrow that badly, maybe you should… Help us get done? Hm?”

“Jaune, you are going to regret-”

“The Queen is here to lead her glorious subjects in conquest of the evils known as ‘homework’!” Nora crowed, tossing Pyrrha back with a hand and earning a surprised cry from the Mistralian champion fighter. Standing, feet spread and fists on her hips, nora continued in a bright, faux-regal tone, “Lord Jaune, you are in charge of leading my forces into battle! Are you prepared, my general?”

“I don’t understand-”

“Just go with it.” Ren suggested, the blonde young man rolling his eyes and sighing.

“Fine, yes, I am ready to lead your armies into battle, Nora-”

“Your highness!” She corrected, grinning ear to ear and adding after a moment, with an almost wistful sigh, fanning her face with an invisible but no doubt elaborately crafted fan while she spoke, “But ah, you are new to the grand court of the Queen of the Castle. So I will forgive your transgressions just this once, if you should succeed in your crusade.”

With an already weary roll of his eyes, the blonde turned to Ren and they exchanged a nod, and set to work. Before their new ‘queen’ got agitated or, for the worse or the better either way and he couldn’t decide, she got bored of the game and returned to eating and bouncing around the room. Something that the reserved Nikos seemed entirely uncomfortable with given… Basic physics and their application on female body parts, as he chose to think of the issue.

Better to focus on the assignment rather than Nora or… Parts of Nora the exuberant girl didn’t deign to consider. Or that she was trying to show off for Ren, he considered, based on the way her bright eyes would sometimes slide to her reserved partner.

‘Well that’s an intriguing thought…’ He noted silently, half-listening to his work partner explain Beowolf hierarchies for him and half-looking at the woman, fairly lost in thought. ‘I wonder if the infatuation runs both ways, or Ren is simply ambivalent to her. Or if he wants to remain friends…’

He’d need to watch them, he decided, in case their romance - or lack thereof, both could cause problems - endangered the team’s stability. Not that he was seriously worried about that, really. If Nora decided they were dating then Ren would probably smile calmly, roll his eyes good naturedly, and go along with it more than happily. Such was how their relationship appeared to function, at least from a cursory observation, after all. 

He put his bets on Nora taking the lead eventually, though, as he turned from his idle musings to finally focus. Not in time for Ren not to give him a suffering, aggrieved look, of course from his lack of helping with the project. He smiled, murmured an apology, and leaned into the project with gusto. He’s had enough of getting distracted, even if the long day had him frazzled to the point of that coming a bit easier than normal. 

Also, Nora.

Nora tended to frazzle people, to say the least. A fact exemplified when the orange haired woman noted the two men doing the project and leapt for Pyrrha, tackling the woman with a victorious cheer and her muted ‘hmph’ to get past her at the last of the sweets. She reminded him of his youngest sisters, in fact.

“I have an idea, rather than a movie night, for us.” He started, a spur of the moment idea coming to mind as the trio looked to him, “Do you want to visit my mother for lunch? I can make a call, and she’s an excellent cook.”

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“Most of the girls will be back in Ansel right now, the older ones I mean.” He explained as they walked down the Grand Boulevard through the heart of Vale proper. 

Like most at Beacon, when they went into town, they did so in their combats, lacking more ‘normal’ clothes for the moment and more comfortable in them than their uniform. Even if he sometimes got looks for his robes, and Pyrrha left behind people who recognized her attire even with the lacking armor. Her hair and bodice both were recognizable enough, even if she had left behind her armored greaves and only come in her gloves and stockings. Not for the first time, he wondered if they should stop and buy different clothes, but for now this was still more comfortable than their stiff uniforms.

Continuing his explanation for the teeneagers trailing behind him, he went on, “The older girls are trained enough to fight with the Guard, you know? So they’re helping patrol the forest and get the Mountain Ranger outposts through the mountains set back up.”

“Ansel makes use of Ranger Posts as well, then?” Ren asked, Nora for once silent and looking at him for answers as well, face curious and lacking any mal intent he could sense. The same could be said of Ren, when he reached out with the Force, so the blonde slowed, walking beside the man now instead of leading them all through Vale, “We’re from Mistral, where the Kingdom Mountain Ranger Corps was invented. Vale itself doesn’t use them, or need them with the way their terrain is, but the region Ansel sits in does?”

“Yes, we do.” He answered simply, feeling a very Sith itch to obscure the information for secrecy’s sake, to keep their security measures to themselves, crawl up. He quashed it back down immediately, and elaborated, “My mother went to Mistral with my father, a couple years before I was born. Looking for ideas to make Ansel safer with as little overhead as possible.”

“The Mountain Rangers were certainly good for that, in Mistral…”

“I never got the chance to learn much about them, really. Back home.” He shrugged, the apparently Mistralian couple - as not ‘together together’ as they might claim they were - giving him a glance at that. Even Pyrrha, on the other side of their little group as they parted through the sparser than normal, lunchtime crowds, gave him a look and he sighed, explaining, “I was… Away from home, for a long time, Pyr can tell you the story. Had a lot of catch up to do, when I got back, and… That all took priority over curiosity.”

His priorities rather simply ran his family, working with the Force, and pursuing his goals to be a hero. Somewhere past that, down the line, learning about everything he was curious about came in.

“Mountain Rangers are like a militarized forest ranger, in a lot of ways.” Pyrrha was the one to start explaining, loud enough to be heard over the Bullheads buzzing up from a few of the store rooftops, headed off to the industrial zone alongside the trucks and cars that came and went through the middle of the boulevard. “In Vale, throughout the forest, ranger towers with small buzzcraft are placed at good sight ranges to report on fires and Grimm, and move to villages in the path of either using their personal craft.”

“The same is the case for the Mountain Rangers, except their jobs entail a more… Military edge, as well. Typically two to three are stationed at each waystation, with room for more scouts ranging between them.” Ren added quietly, doing his best to ignore the crowds clustering outside a restaurant, making more than enough noise to annoy as they passed, “If they see Grimm in low numbers, they engage them, and as such are armed and issued armor for the job. Expensive, but compared to buying Hunters for every problem...”

“Kinda pricey to buy weapons and armor, but a lot cheaper on the general than, like, a dozen Hunters just hanging around.” Nora summarised for his benefit, the blonde nodding gratefully at the addition and filing it away. 

“Using it is a fine enough method to-”

“Oh Dust, is that the Pyrrha Nikos?” He sensed the girl’s agitation and turned, looking back at a crowd of younger girls in frilly shirts and skirts, standing a few inches back with their Scrolls up, snapping pictures of the girl’s back. Pyrrha turned, a fake little smile on her face, and the one in the middle cooed, “It is! Oh, you’re so pretty! Can I have a picture?”

“Of course.” Pyrrha nodded demurely, giving them an apologetic look before the girls half-dragged her away, wrapping their arms around her and posing with her while they took turns snapping photos. 

All the while, around them, he saw the Force darken with despair and aggravation, mixed with sorrowful resignation. Pyrrha’s emotions, he knew, clouding the Force so suddenly he choked and instinctively took a step towards them to force the girls away from her. 

“Jaune?” Nora was the one to grab his arm and stop him, turquoise eyes meeting his with evident concern written across her face when he tried and failed to pull free from her grip, scowling down at her slightly. 

Ren moved to his other flank almost out of his perception, turned towards him with his hand on his shoulder, back to the street while he pointed out. “You looked like murder, for a moment there, Jaune…”

“They’re upsetting her.” He pointed out dryly, nodding to the cluster of overly touchy girls around Pyrrha a few feet away. 

He could tell, sense, it and knew they could see it as well by their frowns and their own agitation echoing into the Force around them. Even in only a week, the difference between her forced laughs and stiff smile was evident compared to her brighter laughs and easier smile. A small difference, but one they all could see easily enough. And their bonds may have still been young and weak, but they were more than strong enough to flare at her being forced into what she so disdained.

“We can tell.” Ren murmured quietly, leaning close enough that he could hear them and the girls couldn’t. “But I lived outside the Kingdoms for a long time, and know when someone is about to get physical. You need to calm down.”

“I didn’t mean to…” They were right and he knew it and he paused for the realization, letting Nora pull him back a step and turn him. He, more gently, tried to pull free and she let him and he sighed, forcing himself to relax mentally and physically both. His team members noticed it and relaxed in turn, easing away from him slightly but standing close enough to offer their support. “My… My Semblance makes me sensitive to emotions, and Pyrrha went from happy to agitated so quickly, I reacted.”

He’d let his temperance go because he’d been surprised, and the seductive, corruptive aspect of the Dark Side had been quick to latch onto him and direct him, to fan his passion into something dark. Such was the whole truth, and such was what he wasn’t ready to share with them just yet. Instructor had warned him of the Force’s dangers, and being too trusting was one of those lessons. A Force wielder, Jedi or Sith either way, could very easily become overconfident in their ability to tell people’s intentions and be too trusting. 

He’d read a dozen Sith accounts that showed where that went…

‘In time, Jaune. It will come in time.’ He promised himself as Pyrrha finally, mercifully, managed to get away from her fans and rejoin them. ‘I will trust them in time, once doing so isn’t naive and foolish.’

Even if he already wanted to, he knew it would be silly to. But he set the thoughts aside as Pyrrha rejoined them and smiled apologetically. 

“I’m sorry about that.” She swallowed anxiously, glancing between each of the and noticing his sour grimace, before her eyes flicked to the ground to avoid it. “I’m famous, of the sort that garners fans rather than yours that garners more professional eyes, so… It will likely happen, time to time.”

“It’s fine.” He nodded, offering her a smile in the hopes of relaxing her and feeling happy when she relaxed slightly. With a jerk of his head he turned, asking, “You guys want to get to lunch or what?

They were more than happy to hurry along at that and, if he used the Force to forcibly and subtly divert people’s attentions away from Pyrrha as they walked, well… It’s not like anyone would know or could prove it.

The house that had been arranged at first and now existed under Arc ownership proper was a relatively simple design, of a Valean aesthetic. Tall and thin like many houses, the house was made of carved stone brickwork, built by Kingdom Engineers to take advantage of Vale’s nearby mountains’ supplying the Kingdom with quarried stone regularly and use as much space as possible. Outside, the five story house had been painted red, resting against a white one to one side and a green one to the other, the sides conjoined and roofs staircasing with the rolling hill the housing district had been built on. 

 

The top three floors, he knew from his sister’s descriptions, were separated into bedrooms three to each floor, with a tight turning spiral staircase dominating the middle of the design. The second floor was a kitchen area and the master bedroom, and the bottom was a living room that wrapped around the staircase. None of the rooms were very large, maybe eight feet from the inner door to the wall, but such was middle class life in the Kingdoms. The Walls offered safety from the Grimm, but caused constriction of space by necessity, while outside them there was plenty of space to spread out. 

‘Plenty of Grimm too.’ He pointed out for his own benefit, leading the trio behind him up the short stairs to the door and raising a hand to knock. After a moment of silence, he called out, “Mother? I came for a visit with my team like I-”

“Jaune! So good to see you, sweetie.” The door swung open and thick, strong arms grabbed him, pulling him against his mother’s shoulder in a tight hug and then tugging him inside before he could attempt to escape. Dragging him bodily to the side, a hand tousling his hair while he flushed and let her hug him, she beamed a motherly smile at his team, “You’re the rest of Juniper, hm?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Pyrrha was the one to answer, Ren too busy keeping Nora from either rushing off to explore the house or saying something they’d regret. She stepped forward and offered her hand to the woman, smiling at the familial display, “I am Pyrrha Nikos, your son’s partner.”

“Oh my, pretty and beautiful. You have excellent taste, Jaune, just like your father.” His mother complimented, Jaune able to sense his partner’s embarrassment as her face flushed to match her hair. The woman chuckled at seeing that and released the blonde, grabbing his partner’s stiff hand before she could recover, “I’m only teasing, Pyrrha.”

“A-Ah.” The woman coughed into her fist when his mother released her hand and, fighting her embarrassment now and giving him a sour look at his smirk, she gestured to the other two with them, “These are our team members, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie.”

“Hiiii~!” Nora waved excitedly and bounced on her heel, Ren laying a hand on the small of her back to subtly tell her to calm down. The woman glanced up at him and then back to his mother without comment, asking instead, “You’re Jaune’s mom? But you’re so pretty, and Jaune’s so… Meh!”

“Oi!” Jaune chimed in playfully, smiling at the roll of her eyes. 

“Oh my, aren’t you the sweetest little thing…” His mother turned to him and stepped aside at that, smiling mischievously. “Speaking of sweet little things… Jade! Hazel! Your brother came by for a visit with his team!”

“Oh no… I hear incoming.” He heard the little footfalls of the youngest two of his sisters thudding down the stairs and turned, in time to catch the two wiry little girls slamming into him at full pelt. Muscled and backed by the Force, he only staggered back a few inches, chuckling and hoisting the two girls into the air, spinning them around in a hug while they giggled. Kneeling he let them go and they staggered back, grinning wide, childish grins while he asked, “Now how have you little gremlins been, hm?”

“We’re fine!” The sisters chorused brightly together, smiling brightly and looking like miniature copies of Saphron, sans scars. The oldest, with slightly shorter hair, asked for them both, “How have you been? Killed any monsters?”

“Yep! A lot of them.” Hazel had always been one to look up to Hunters, always wanting to fight Grimm herself once she got a few years older than their current ten. Grinning, he put on an air of confidence, kneeling on the floor and flexing a bicep jokingly, “Why, just a day ago, I killed a dragon.” 

“Liar!” She giggled, her younger sister adding a chorus to that after a second. 

“Nuh uh!” He childishly imitated, standing and gesturing to Pyrrha with both his hands, grinning the same grin his mother had given him moments ago, “Just ask my partner! Pyrrha Nikos.”

The two gasped and turned to look up at the woman, who blinked and had just enough time to meet his eyes. After a scarce second, she murmured, “This is cruel…”

Then the two were on here, hugging her legs and hammering her with questions faster than she could stamme rout answers. One of them grabbed her hips and the other a knee and Pyrrha fell with a startled, gentle cry of surprise. She landed on her rear and, the clever little goblins they were, the girls seized on their successful plan and grabbed an arm each to hug, battering her with more questions. Pyrrha, ever patient and ever kind, tried her best to keep up but two young girls were not something she’d been trained to handle.

“Girls.” His mother finally chided in the way only a mother could, the two immediately turning to her and letting the Mistralian go. Pyrrha tried to hide it, but she stood up quickly to escape tiny hands while his mother chided them, “Be nice to Jaune’s team, now. You’re not being polite.”

“I-I assure you, they were not in any way a-”

“Not what she meant.” Jaune interrupted with a smile, giving the girls a look, “How could you welcome my partner but not my team like that? That’s so unfair, right girls?”

“Jaune you absolutely son-of-a-” Nora’s half-serious insult was interrupted when Jade slammed into her with a wide hug, and Ren blinked before Hazel did the same to him. With a Grimm-like roare, Nora scooped up her little girl and spun her, giggling, in her arms, “Ahhh, I love kids! Delicious snacks for the Nora!”

“Jaune, your friends can play with the girls.” His mother murmured, laying a hand on his arm, “You mind helping me set up for dinner?”

“Sure.” He shrugged, following the woman up the stairs and into the kitchen, setting to work under her instructions efficiently. She didn’t need the help, he knew that for a fact. What mother could after years with over half a dozen kids?

She just wanted the company, and he didn’t mind providing it.

“Do they know about your, ah… Religious tendencies?” She finally asked, minutes later as they were setting the table in the opposite end of the bottom floor, the girls busy with the rest of his team across the way. “I know you’re wanting to keep the information under control, so… You know, I need to know.”

“I’ve been saying it’s a Semblance, and avoiding any questions when I slip up and mention the Force by name.” A mistake he was getting better about not making now, having adjusted to spending time with people he needed to get to know. As opposed to his family, and people they paid, the latter of whom he hadn’t spent much time around. “Once I know them better… I’ll tell them the rest. For now, though…”

“Trust is earned.” His mother nodded understandingly, calling out after a second, “Girls. Wash your hands for dinner. You older children as well.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to do as she said while the girls disentangled themselves from Nora, who they’d been playing with. The other three stood and followed, trailing behind towards the bathroom sink and echoing a pleasant, happy mood into the Force around them. Enough that, for once in a week, he relaxed in his seat fully and let himself smile just as much while his mother set out the potatoes and ham she’d decided to make when he said he was coming over.

‘Today was a very, very good day…’ He decided, watching Pyrrha slice the ham at his mother’s suggestion and smiling even wider. Now for a nice dinner to round out the Saturday, and relaxation tomorrow in his dorm. With a good book, hopefully.

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To note, the description I use of Vale is built out over most of my stories. In essence, for here so I don’t have to integrate the description and bloat the word count, the city is split as such. 

A grand boulevard - think Time Square for function, but much longer, about ten miles, and a bit wider as well - splits the city from north-west to the south-east, where the ocean is. Around the natural bay of the Valean harbor is a large warehouse, shipping and industrial zone full of production for everything from firearms and domestic goods, to Bullhead parts, orders to repair the Wall with, and naval ship production for trade between the Kingdoms and travel. 

Closer to Beacon and past a large swathe of wealthy housing districts, for obvious reasons, at the northern region of the Kingdom past the Grand Boulevard, is the Government District. With large bureaucratic buildings, liaison offices for military and Hunter duties, and the grand Council Chambers in the center, with diplomatic halls and dormitories for dignitaries from other Kingdoms adjoining. As well as housing for representatives elected by the populace of Vale and the largest settlements outside it, as few of them as there were.

At the opposite end of the Boulevard is a span of several blocks curving with the natural harbor, with nicer, middle income housing towards the shopping districts, administrative offices and skyscrapers flanking the Boulevard’s. Imagine New York’s nicer housing, and you’re good. A few blocks at the edge of the warehouse districts and industrial zone has the poorer housing, mainly populated by malcontent Humans that don’t fit in and Faunus, or people of either species unable to get a career outside the industrial work. The only exceptions are the three larger transport roads leading to the docks proper, flanked by more of the nicer houses owned by merchants and explorers that work there, though many foreman and dock owners have homes built into their warehouses. 

A bit long winded, but here you go. Would have been worse adding the flowery description to the story proper and integrating it in. I’ve built it up a lot over the years, and doing it again… Feels like cheating, I guess. 

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Tea in Winter :

XD

Dr. Killinger :

Always love the predictions.

Josh Spicer :

For the… For the teams? Same as canon. Jaune is leader, Ruby is other one.

Talon Ibn la Ahad :

You shall see~

As always, love the predictions and ideas you generate. You should join my Server, talk to people more readily. Could be fun.

Abyss Trinity :

That’s the gist of what I am going for, actually. Jaune isn’t all powerful, or immune to problems or mistakes from his abilities. He’s not at his apex, as shown above actually, and can be influenced by things or make mistakes. 

Glad you’re enjoying it.


	9. Chapter 9

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If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM one of us for details or join our discord. Server ,.for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, and remember to post a Review/Comment to let me know what you liked and didn’t. 

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Betas for this story so far :

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I hope you all enjoy the chapter update and the proper start of the Rannoch Arc, and hope you drop a Review and let me know what you think. But this isn’t for that. I wanted to offer a special congratulations to a friend of mine named Bill the Something, who recently became an uncle.

And I wanted to give him a special congratulations on chapters through the week.

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Jaune despised two things, truly and utterly. 

One was the Grimm in their entirety, though their purity of desire and purpose was something his attuned mind found beauty in. Bestial, powerful, cruel and wicked, but pure of intent in a way unmatched by any other single thing. Aside from Atlas’ automated soldiers, of course, but they were purely artificial and entirely devoid of the purity of natural purpose. And they, unliked the black-furred, white-armored Grimm, could be tricked and used to savage their fellows or their master. The Grimm, however, savaged neither other animals or each other, outside the usual sporting bouts and succession trials when an Alpha was wounded beyond use or killed. 

“Ha, feel ‘em! They really are real, I told you so.” Humans, though, were cruel and base, as he was seeing now. Lunch was normally something he looked forward to, the Force reverberating with the social uplifting the event always came with. 

Now, though…

“Someone should teach that jerk a lesson.” Yang groused, one of a literal score of students and staff, no doubt, who felt the same. In front of her, and Jaune and Pyrrha both for that matter, their trays were half-empty, and they intermittently poked at their meals without appetite for them while they watched the bully mock and jeer. “Why don’t the teachers do something or… Something.”

“There are no teachers chaperoning us, likely because we are, all of us, meant to be grown adults.” Ren sighed, sitting next to the braid-wearing blonde and tearing his toast into smaller pieces to alternatively eat and pitch into the air across the table for Nora to snap up. 

An exercise in combating her aggravation at the bully and to control her energies, he knew. Breaking the bully’s legs or their table out of boredom, neither would be something they wanted. 

“The staff are right over there, though!” Ruby hissed, pointing across the long, wide, tall room to where the cooks and cleaners were hard at work setting up the three long tray-lines that students collected their food from until they were full, arrayed like a buffet. “Why don’t they do anything?”

“Civilians step between Aura-enabled, trained people?” Jaune asked gently, watching the man across the way grab Velvet by the hip and force her to sit between himself and the mohawked member of their group. Turning his eyes to look at the Rose sat across from him but not his head, he raised a brow, “How likely to succeed do you think that would be?”

“I don’t think Velvet would risk them getting hurt…”

“No, she wouldn’t, which is likely precisely why she does not cry out for their aid.” It was easier for people to watch something horrible and ignore it, watching no one else take action. But if someone reached out for you, pleaded with you directly? That was harder to shirk and shrug off. “She’s a tough girl, she can handle a little harassment. Else that upperclassman would have already broken his fingers off her ear.”

“Faunus’ ears are sensitive.” Blake snapped suddenly, grimacing sheepishly and shrinking in her seat when eyes landed on her. “W-What I mean to say is that a champion fighter, able to take all manner of punishment, would balk if you grabbed their ears. Or tails, or whiskers, or wings, whatever the case.”

“My father’s workers-”

“Slaves.”

“Workers, Blake. Workers. Slaves can’t leave, and they can if they wish. That they do not is hardly my father’s fault.” Weiss not quite snarled, blue eyes narrowing on Blake for a moment until she was sure Blake would do no more than roll her eyes and shrugged, clearly beyond unconvinced. Finally, she went on, “My father’s workers often refuse to wear the helmets they are given, saying how it hurts their ears to.”

“Maybe if you would just make them specialised helmets, like the military does…”

“Blake, that is not a conversation to have with me.” Weiss drawled sarcastically, “If those Faunus wanted to lodge formal complaints and request specialised equipment be purchased, they could. All they need do is form an organized union and petition the SDC properly, if it is such a pain.”

“You mean like the White Fang used to be?” Blake nettled, amber eyes narrowing on Weiss while, beside the Schnee and across from the dark-haired beauty, Ruby floundered and panicked. “Because that’s what the Fang did, isn’t it? Back before the SDC’s silence and apathy turned them to violence.”

“Whoa, whoa, Blake. Girls, I mean, girls. Come on now, reel it back a bit. No need for claws, right?” Yang finally cut in, laughing awkwardly beside her and leaning on the table with her elbows, bumping against the girl jovially. Both women simply grunted, prodding more aggressively at their food, and Yang sighed. “Thank you, just chill out.”

“Mhm.” Blake groused after the deserved groans at the ever present Atlas puns they’d been dealing with for weeks now, Ren scooting away from her a fraction in lieu of a potential fight. After a moment, Blake sighed and offered a stiff, glassy, “Sorry, Weiss. Just… Cardin is upsetting me, I suppose.”

“Of course. I could say the same, and such would be true.” The woman’s response was icy, but as cordial as Jaune suspected he could expect. 

He spared Ruby a glance, turning away from the bully’s harassing antics even to see her, and she just shrank in her seat, head leaning against her hand while her hand hid most of her face for shame. That only furthered his curiosity and, if he were honest, concern for the young woman across from him. Normally she was such a beacon of Light that the Force around her seemed to, at times when she was her most ecstatic, quake, but now? Now it was still and dim, like a sun yet, but more akin to one hidden behind a darkened, overcast sky than the bright, warm, sunny day he would compare her to at other times. 

“I think that the problem at hand is Cardin, and I believe we are in agreement there at the least.” Pyrrha, saint and font of patience and charity that she was so helpfully chimed in. Nodding her head towards the man, she pushed her plate back an inch and turned her chair, glaring balefully - for Pyrrha, at least, so less ‘baleful’ and more ‘motherly scolding’ - at the man. “I’ve a mind to intervene myself, and to the Grimm with the consequences I might receive.”

“You’d get a mark on your record.” Weiss sounded affronted at the idea and Pyrrha grimaced, likely considering her sponsors and, with them, her tuition at Beacon. Leaning on the table when the Mistralian didn’t answer, Weiss went on in a hissed, hushed voice, “Your tuition here is from your sponsors, I know that because the SDC is one of them. If you start fighting, and it seems you are going down a troubling path-”

“What, they’ll yoink her enrollment?” Nora asked, rolling her eyes when Weiss blinked and nodded, arms spread for a moment like she was presenting that very fact. Grinning, Nora stood, pushing her chair back and leaning over the table, “Then maybe I can break his legs? Then Pyr isn’t in trouble, and the jacka-”

“Nora.”

“Jerk,” she amended, giving her partner’s shoulder a pat and squeeze, “will leave the Bunnygirl alone.”

“A mark on you record could reflect on Pyrrha as well.” Weiss pointed out, the ginger’s eyes narrowing in question and turning to the Mistralian with it. Pyrrha nodded in answer, but it was Weiss who explained, “If you go around flunking classes, or bad mouthing teachers, or, yes, fighting other students, then that reflects on her as a team member. Tabloids make a living off reading into invisible lines.”

“‘Mistral’s champion’s team a bane on Vale’s most prestigious Hunter Academy’, eh?” Yang intoned dramatically, the more famed members of their group nodding knowingly. Jaune was unfortunately a member of that group, though the tabloids had thankfully had little time to devise more vile stories. “Yeah, figured that was the case. Else I’d have taken him for a one way ride on the Yang express. Xiao Long do you think I’d let that-”

“Stop!”

“No!”

“Not my sister…”

“Please, kill me…”

“You are all party crashers, and not the fun ones.” Yang sighed, drowning her sorrows in a can of Grape and then slamming it down like the alcoholic beverage it definitely was not. Shaking her head and, in a darker, lower sort of tone Jaune suspected more meant for murder plotting than lunchtime complaints, went on, “Any of us go up there, we’re going to have a fight. And… That’s not worth it, not unless she asks for help, at least.”

“Oh if she asked, then I would damn the black mark and freeze him where he stands.” Weiss’ tone was cold and sharp, like she was, but surprising in a way. She caught the not quickly enough hidden looks and growled, “What? Because she’s a Faunus, you think I would not care for her? Just wow, you guys. Thanks for the faith…”

“In fairness-”

“Bad, Blake. No.” Yang cut in, thumping the woman on the nose with a spoon and grinning at the shocked face that earned. Shock that turned first to hurt, and then was bottled away as the woman stood, Yang blinking in surprise as she turned to stalk away stiffly. Stunned, the blonde stood up and called out, “Blakey, what did I say? What’s wrong?”

Hearing no reply, the blonde tossed a ‘See ya, guys’ and took off after her, practically sprinting in her hurry to catch her partner and address whatever she’d done to set the other woman off so badly. 

“My team is a mess…” Ruby whined, folding her arms on the table and laying her head on them, face hidden by her arms. “I’m the worst leader ever…”

“You’re fine, whatever Blake’s problems with me are, you are most definitely not to blame for her poor attitude, Ruby.” There was a softness there, Jaune noticed with a slow, contemplative blink, busying himself gnawing on a piece of toasted bread topped in cheese. It was a good replacement for the shouting and arguing of their first week, he supposed with a small shrug, so he let it go. 

“I should be able to keep my team together right, though… You and I are, you know, good now, but…” A hand rose, waved vaguely the way the other partner-pair of their team had gone, and then flopped across her head in the same motion. “Blake is being I don’t even know, and Yang is being Yang and… I don’t know.”

“She was being rather catty.” Ren nodded with a grimace, pitching a fry into the air for Nora, standing still, to lash out and catch with her mouth in their game. “Is this normal?”

“Yes, it’s-”

“Force damn it!” Jaune snarled finally, slamming his fist down into the table hard enough it smarted as, again, Cardin grabbed her ears and Velvet cried out, bent practically over his lap from his tugging. Rising, Jaune took one step towards the problem and Weiss’ hand landed on his stomach, mouth open to warn him, but he already knew her words. “No fighting, I know. I won’t start anything, he can swing at me if he wishes to. I presume self defence is allowed in these ridiculous contracts?”

“...Even the tabloids would enjoy her having a restrained hero over one who lashes out, yes. They would run that for the sales it would get.” Weiss nodded, offering him a small, wan smile as he strode away, Pyrrha’s eyes locked on his back. 

“I think she like syou, dude.” The mohawked man nodded, leering at the Faunus’ rear as she bobbed dangerously, crying as she was tugged along. Grinning, the man added, “Or maybe she likes me, huh?”

“Animals like these, she might, yeah.” Cardin caught him coming from the corner of his eye and turned, years of training warning him before Jaune could quite reach him. He let her ears go and she receded, the green-haired one wrapping an arm around her shoulders before she could truly escape. Instead, she stared to him, hoping for help and, he could tell, hoping for not a violent rescue.

Cardin turned, sneering with his arms crossed, and grinned at the newcomer to the table, “What’s up, Arc? Come for dinner or the show?”

“I came to tell you to let the woman go and eat her lunch in peace, you asinine ape of a man.” Jaune sighed, the man’s smile evaporating into a sneer before he flexed through the Force, sending waves of foreboding sensation and intent washing over the man. Cardin paled at that and, seizing it, Jaune closed with him, leaning down into his face with his hands on the back of the chair, ignoring his teammates standing and jeering at him for it, “You see, Winchester, you are going to let her go. Or I am going to be angry. Look at my table, tell me what’s not there.”

“I-I…” He did, and Jaune saw the gears working in his head as he realized their little group was lacking members. “The, uh, the blonde bimbo and that Belladonna bitch-”

“Blake and Yang, you base bigot.” He snapped shortly, sending another flex through the Force to wash over the man. They did to him as waves over one treading water did, wearing down their endurance and, eventually, pulling them under. Drowning to death or, in this case, panicking, the end was almost inevitable. “You ruined my lunch, and theirs especially, with this trite shit. So you have your green-haired fuck buddy there let Velvet go before I ruin yours.”

“You mother-”

“L-Let her go, Russ.” The large man stammered, hands gripping the bottom of his seat.

“But-”

“Do what I Brothers damn say, Russ, and don’t fucking argue with me.” He snapped back, never once looking away from Jaune. Not even as Velvet stood, her tray of cold food in her hand, and stepped behind Jaune. Swallowing through a no doubt dry throat, the man stammered, “T-There. We done here?”

“Yeah, we’re done.” Jaune grunted, pushing off the chair and effectively shoving the large man back against Russel’s legs. Turning, he laid a hand on Velvet’s shoulder and steered her away, towards his table, “You eat with us, from now on, Velvet.”

“But-”

“No buts, unless it is to tell me you enjoy that abuse.” She didn’t speak and instead nodded with a small, nervous sigh. She sat beside him, between Jaune and Weiss, at his insistence and the blonde leaned forward to point at the Schnee with raised brows, “You behave, Weiss.”

“Wha-”

“You wouldn’t want a mark on your record, would you?” Ruby teased, sitting up and offering Velvet a sheepish smile while the Schnee spluttered insults and denials. “Hi, uh, Velvet. Welcome to the table! We’re all nice, here, so you don’t have to worry about those booty heads. Or, well, we’re nice, ‘cept Weiss.”

“Hey!”

“She can be rather crabby at times, I am afraid, yes.” Pyrrha added, leaning back to mouth an ‘I’m sorry’ while Velvet snickered and started to, more visibly to Jaune than anyone else, relax. After a moment’s silence, aside form Weiss’ (ignored) complaints and protests, Pyrrha asked in a gentle voice, “So, Velvet… How are you doing?’

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“Blake!” The secret-Faunus ignored her partner’s call, beyond speeding up her fast-march towards the library, hoping for books to distract herself, shelves to slip between and shadows to lurk in. “Come on, let’s talk about… Whatever this is!”

“I do not want to talk, Yang.” She snapped back over her shoulder, not turning to look at her bubbly, overly protective and kind partner. She wouldn’t dare, couldn’t dare for that matter. 

Familiar comforts was what she wanted, that she’d grown more than just used to in her less savory past. A perfect escape for a coward like her, wanting a place to wallow in her own inequity and anger. She reached the doors that lead out into the walkway that then lead to the library building proper and got a hand on it, just in time to feel a hand on her shoulder and hear a loud, ecstatic, “Finally, got you, Blakey. Now let’s talk about all-”

“Yang, this is not something I am going to talk about. Why can’t you get that?” She met the blonde’s surprised face and fought to keep hers blank.

“Blake…?” Yang recoiled, if only just, eyes and face flashing through confusion and then hurt, and Blake’s hand folded. Yang sad was not something, it turned out, Blake was equipped for. Adam was one thing, that mask hid his face-

She cut that train of- Line of thought off before it could gain purchase and pulled away from Yang. Not enough to distance them, she was certain of that. Just enough to get her hand off her, let her run if she needed to. Yang let her go and took a half-step back, hoping to give her the space she wanted or still hurt from her snapping a moment ago. The look alone…

“I-I’m sorry, Yang.” She rushed to fold her hand before the dealer had even so much as reached for the deck. Sighing, she explained as best she could short of taking her bow off, though it as always itched and ached desperately. “It was just… Velvet, and what was happening, a-and Weiss being a bit of a… I don’t know.”

“A frosty bitch?” Yang offered cheerily, the Faunus rolling her eyes but nodding regardless. Seeming to recover, the blonde leaned against the wall of the wide hallway, watching Blake closely as she spoke, “It’s just Weiss being Weiss. She’s defending her family.”

“Her family has thousands of Faunus-”

“I know, I… Gods, Blake, do I know.” Yang nodded, smiling sadly but resignedly and then shrugging. Not the usual flippant, almost flirty kind of shrug either, this one was… Sorrowful, in a weird way. “Weiss has a lot on her plate, Blakey, lik… Like a lot. But controlling her father’s corporation isn’t one of those.”

“She could try-”

“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t.” Yang shrugged and pushed off the wall. Then she turned and looked down the hall for a long moment, watching a teacher vanish around a corner before turning back to Blake. “We all have skeletons, Blake. Weiss has a company to, probably, fix one day. But she has to get there. And you… You have your own, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you-”

“Maybe two specific ones?” The blonde pressed, stepping closer to her, eyes crinkling warily as she watched the Faunus in front of her. Only too late did Blake realize she was in Yang’s guard, now, and if she ran Yang could catch her easily. Her shoulders tensed instinctively at that and what the woman was implying and, of course being the trained fighter she was, Yang noticed, asking simply, “I know what’s under there. Weiss doesn’t, I can tell, she’d… Have words.”

“I don’t... I don’t doubt it, Yang.” Blake murmured, ears twitching in agitation freely now that the veil was broken. Listening, searching for anything from ambushes to strangers coming and going who might hear. “A Schnee team with a Faunus? Unlikely, to say the least.”

“Weiss wouldn’t care about your… Horns?”

“Ears.” Blake sighed, shaking her head dourly, “I have… Ears.”

“...Dog?” Yang guessed with a small grin, pointing a finger at the crown of her head curiously. 

“No!” Blake shouted in surprise, blinking after a second and listening for any attention that brought. When no attention came, she first question Beacon’s not investigating a woman screaming ‘no’ and then relaxed, shaking her head. “They’re… Cat ears.”

“Can I…” A hand half-reached up towards her head and Blake glowered, before it dropped and Yang nodded. “Okay, not okay, got it. Didn’t know, sorry.”

“Who all knows?”

“Just me, really. Ruby’s a dolt, probably just thinks your bow is like her cloak and Weiss is… Weiss.” She shrugged unsurely, “Jaune might, he’s perceptive, but… I dunno. I only know because I’m a big sister full time, mom part time thanks to Ruby and… Stuff I’ll explain later about home. Point being,” she sighed, “I always notice when people are hiding things. Stolen cookies, Dust rounds, checking if people are looking when you adjust your bow…”

“You noticed…?”

“You think I make so much of a scene in the mornings for the fuck of it?” Yang asked, smiling roguishly and crossing her arms. “No, I’m distracting Weiss and Ruby. Covering for you, Kitty-Cat, because we’re friends. S’why I made that joke, too, and I won’t do that again. I know it bothers you now.”

“Thank you…” The gratitude was genuine and deep in a way that Blake couldn’t have possibly explained if she’d tried. “You didn’t- I didn’t even ask you to do that. Why didn’t you even ask me why I was doing it?”

“Your business why you’re hiding it, not mine.” Yang shrugged simply, as though Blake simply wanting it hidden was reason enough to act all in its own. After a moment of Blake gaping at her like a dumb fish, she asked, “You want to tell me why you’re hiding them like that?”

“No, I’m not… Ready.” Blake swallowed, staring at Yang’s neck to avoid her eyes. “I-I’m sorry, but-”

“S’fine, Blakey. I don’t mind you keeping what’s yours to yourself, and I will keep flashing my tits to fluster Weiss and annoying Ruby in the morning to cover for you, don't you worry about a thing.” The blonde shrugged simply, stepping by to grab the handle of the door outside and beaming a smile at her. “Come on, now, let’s go hide long enough for you to have reasonably sulked your problems away.”

“I don’t… Sulk.” Blake groused, the blonde chuckling but not answering, letting the other woman duck through the door and following behind her while Blake insisted, “I don’t silk, Yang! I… I brood at the worst.”

The blonde woman laughed brightly and, for once in months with Adam and weeks with Beacon, Blake started to relax. Yang knew some, but trusted her implicitly and openly, and that… That was new and good, and Blake was happy to have it.

“Seriously though, can I touch them? I bet they’re soft~!”

“Yang!”

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

“You don’t have to keep doing this…” Velvet finally spoke in something other than ‘okay’, ‘sure’, or ‘yeah’ two lunches and a weekend later, sitting between Yang and Blake, the blonde lounging against the rabbit-Faunus’ side with a cocksure smirk, dressed in her combats as they all were ahead of Monday sparring class. A smirk that turned quickly to confusion as she pulled away, Velvet explaining as fast as she could before Yang could leap to conclusions Velvet didn’t necessarily want, “Winchester is leaving me alone now, so you don’t… Don’t need to babysit me. I’m fine.”

“We’re-”

“Oh I’m quite sorry, but I didn’t know we were babysitting you.” Weiss cut across Jaune, smiling thinly in that cold, clinical but still somehow friendly sort of way she did. “If I had known, I’d have sent a bill along. How’s twenty Lien an hour sound to you, then, now I know the situation to hand properly?”

“I, uh, I don’t understand what you…”

“She means we aren’t babysitting you, or keeping you.” Ren offered calmly from down the table, pitching fries up its length for Nora to catch, still stuck on that game she’d made the week before. In the same always calm voice, the man explained simply, “You needed help, we helped you, and now you are our friend. Or rather, we consider you as one, albeit a newer one.”

“You’re welcome at our table, and with us.” Pyrrha added gently from beside Jaune, giving the woman a warm smile. Velvet seemed to respond to that marginally more than their conversations thus far, “We here don’t care about your ears, and enjoy your company. You are welcome here, and just as welcome to leave, if you wish.”

“Got like, five minutes to pick, though.” Yang pointed out, waving a hand up at one of the large clocks lining the interior wall, each the size of a man and alternating so that all students had something to check the time on. “Combat class starts in fifteen, and we need to start heading there. So, what do you wanna do, Vel?”

“I-I wanna be friends, so you should stay!” Ruby added in her own clumsy attempt to keep Velvet on side. Velvet blinked and looked at the young woman and, flushing, Ruby hid her head in her hood and murmured, “Sorry…”

“I don’t want pity…” Velvet glanced to each of them quickly and then, finally, sighed and finished, “But this isn’t pity. This is all just you being nice to me, and inviting me to be your friend, and I’m being a stubborn cunt for no reason. Aren’t I?”

“I mean, wouldn’t call you a cunt…”

“But yes, in a way at least.” Jaune rolled his eyes, ignoring Yang entirely and speaking to Velvet instead. After a heartbeat he sighed, grabbed a fry and twirled it in his fingers idly, watching it while he went on. “I would argue paranoid more than stubborn, though, even though even that word doesn’t quite work right. Thinking that people wouldn’t want to just be your friend, I mean.”

“I understand, and… Would like to be friends?” They nodded and, after a moment of moderately awkward silence, they all chuckled and started to eat again, nibbling at the last of their food until the bells chimed to alert the students to the changing of class. With resigned sighs and only a few words, they started packing up their stuff and began making their way to the training arena for spars.

He caught Cardin glowering as they left and half turned to him, head cocked to the side in challenge, flexing his threat through the Force like he’d done several times now to cow the man into submission. The young bigot balked immediately, shot a glare and sneer at Velvet’s back, and turned to leave without a word.

“What was that all about?” Ruby asked with her hands clasped behind her head, the two leaders trailing behind their team, letting them make a wake through the students for the less inclined members of their group to use to navigate. “You went all scary face… But when I do that to people, they just laugh.”

“Scary face?” He asked, the girl cocking her head to the side and grinning in what he supposed was meant to be be feral, eyes crossed while she did. He snorted and laughed, earning a pouting glare from the girl he waved off, “It’s… Part of my Semblance, I can intimidate people if I want to.”

Not to mention making them angry, or ignore things, or calming their nerves… But better not to touch on that, lest he earn questions he didn’t feel like dealing with.

“Sounds like a fun- I mean, useful Semblance, not, you know, not fun… I wouldn’t say that, haha, I’m all grown up. M-Mine just helps me go fast… Kinda, I mean.” He’d seen it in action, during training, and though it took a lot out of her right now he had seen the potential in it. Not to mention the lack of credit ‘I go fast’ gave her, or her Semblance. “Yours can do a lot, though. Moving things and affecting emotions?”

“It’s… Just how it works, I guess, Ruby. I don’t know everything about it, really.” That part, at the very least, was true. Still only in a way that was synthetic and sterile, keeping his secret and only technically being true in looser terms of the words. “You know how Semblances can be, sometimes. They’re weird.”

“Yeah, I guess…” A little shrug of small shoulders, “Semblances are funny, so yeah. Wonder what else yours can do.”

“Maybe we’ll find out, one of these days.” He had a few ideas of what he could do with the Force, to say the least. 

The texts detailed everything from healing capabilities to construction applications, and even into more… Fantastical areas, like elemental control and the ability to, apparently, fly to some extent. Theoretically, at least, as the texts detailed only two instances of it working in a ‘the user didn’t die right after’ sort of way. He’d only been declared not dead a scant few months prior, and spent more than enough time underground. He didn’t fancy trying dangerous, deadly Force experiments just yet.

Shaking the ideas off, he asked in a light, airy way, hoping to hide where his mood had gone with his thoughts. “Anyway, ideas on who you want to spar with today? I’m thinking of challenging Yang, but I don’t want to have to go easy on someone.”

“I heard that, Loverboy!” The blonde called back over her shoulder, turning and walking backwards so she could meet his gaze with a cocky grin and raised brows. With hand, she waved up her length and teased, “You think you can handle all of this, do you?”

“I do, actually, yeah.”

“Oh we are going to have fun in class today!” Yang crowed, turning and throwing an arm around her partner, who sighed sufferingly but didn’t try and escape. Grinning wide and sure, she asked in a loud voice, “Gonna be rooting for me, Blakey? I could use a cute cheerleader, you know~!”

“I am not a cheerleader.” Blake sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically and then grinning, raising a tiny ‘team RWBY’ flag for them to see, “But I did make this over the weekend- Yang, no, don’t steal my flag!”

“It’s cute! Gimme! I want!” Jaune laughed at the proclamation, alongside their entire little group, and settled back to enjoy the day. Another good day, part of a relatively good week - unpleasantness with Winchester aside - down and through with. 

What, he wondered, would tomorrow bring calling?

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

So, ladies, gents and assorted robots, guess what the first arc is going to be about?

Yay… I made Cardin a good guy in one story and here, he’s a dickhead. Not the last you’ll see of him, believe me. A mildly shorter chapter, but mainly a setup one, full of character dynamics and conversations instead of action. I considered shoe-horning in a spar, but elected not to.

Lemme know if you would prefer I intersperse spars in, to add some action to the chapters, and I will endeavor to.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Gaspachu :

This story follows a slightly different framework I am testing, at least right now, where the story has arcs within. The Prologue Arc was in Ansel, for instance, and had the set up, rising action and climaxes as per norm of a full story. Here, Beacon time will consist of a few sets like that, until I reach a certain (undisclosed) point that the MAJOR arc comes to a starting head.

Lemme know if you have any queries or concerns, I will rush to answer them as I am here or in a message.

Glad you have liked it so far, though!

Anonymousse :

XD

Also, I recognize your name from somewhere...

Captain Dick Scratcher :

Spoilers~

Red Demon Eye :

One, welcome back. Two, can’t answer any of that for spoiler reasons~ XD

Dragon Lord Syed :

He didn’t return to Ansel, he went to an Arc house in Vale, to introduce his team to his family. As for why he’d do so so soon… Well, I mean, he missed four years or so. He values the time now, I suppose you could say.

Josh Spicer :

You… You know my writing name, write?


	10. Chapter 10

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(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

In combat, Instructor had always said, there were three great, overarching types of fighters. Scalpels, those who shot into combat - either literally, with a firearm like Ruby could do, or figuratively by using speed and accurate attacks like Weiss would - to cut down their enemies and support stronger, sturdier allies in engagements. Then there were the stalwart, those who held ground rather than launching out to take it, and he liked to fancy himself one such fighter, though he knew in truth he was more akin to a scalpel than a stalwart kind of fighter. 

Then, there were the hammers, he’d always been told by Instructor, as the droid swapped between the styles to beat him into the ground until he learned to deal with them. Proper, Sith training, that, either breaking him or breaking though with the lesson. People who functioned as hammers in battle were brutal, somewhat slower typically, but unyielding fighters. Stalwart fighters held ground heedless of damage taken or coming, and scalpels maneuvered around their opponents to deal that damage, hamstringing opponents until they could crush them. Hammers, though, skipped all the preamble and went straight to crushing, under weathering, devastating blows.

“What, not gonna use your fancy glowstick, Jaune?” Yang, the very clear hammer among his group of friends, jeered as he joined her on the sparring arena floor. She cocked a hip to rest her fist on and watch him spin his glaive at his side on the palm of his hand, whistling from the speed the Force let him reach. “I was hoping for your real weapon, not your backup. What gives?”

“One is for fighting people, so I don’t hurt them.” He caught the glaive and held it in front of him, curved edge facing inward to line up with her neck in a faux-threat she smirked at. Letting it drop, he finished in a cooler fashion than how he’d explained it to Ruby, “The other is for killing monsters.”

“What’s the difference?”

“My glaive is a blade, so it only cuts things.” He left unstated the obvious, that Aura could easily protect against blades. Yang was a smart hammer, she’d figure that bit out for herself, he was sure. “My lightsaber, though, burns through them. If I swung for your arm and you blocked, I could destroy your Gauntlet or do some serious burns to your arm. So unless you want to go to the infirmary with third degree burns...”

“Nah, was just curious.” She shrugged the idea off now she was satisfied and flicked her arms out to the sides, Ember Celica extending to full form while she watched. Careful eyes that he recognized for their staunch seriousness at work, checking his equipment for damage. Meeting his eyes again, she smiled, playful again inside a moment, and shrugged, “Plus, if its a heat weapon, it would play hell with my hair. Frizz it up like nothin’ else, I’d bet.”

“Or burn it off.” He shuddered, as much a reaction to what he knew that could come to as to show he was joking. The woman across only half-laughed, the other half of her glaring death at him for the idea. He waved it off and shrugged, “Hey, that’s why I have my glaive here, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, giving him a threatening, almost feral grin that had him pause for a moment in checking the straps of his forearm guard, “You’re smart for it, too. Wouldn’t have wanted to hurt you if you did something bad like that.”

Hadn’t that been the point of leaving his saber behind? He didn’t bother arguing that, of course, since he knew better than to risk angering a wild Yang even further, but he felt like that had been the entire point of their conversation. Rolling his eyes and sighing, he looked up, to the high booth where the deputized Headmistress stood, doing the final system checks of the day before sparring started properly. But typically she’d be done right about-

“Are you two prepared?” The woman finally called, eyes hard and critical even from such a distance landing on them. Like it was their fault, somehow, that they’d been read fast and already wanted to challenge each other when they came in, sop they’d had to wait on her. “I apologize for the wait, but you should expect such when you rush up to me to make your challenges at the start of the class.”

“Sorry, Headmistress Goodwitch.” They both called it mechanically the way it had been drilled into their heads, though Jaune had to resist the urge to point out only Yang had gone running up to her. That way lay madness, he knew. Madness coming from weeks of detention, or Yang’s revenge fuelled attentions.

Absolute, blonde fuelled madness.

“If both are sparring members are prepared?” The woman said it like a sentence, but the two blondes nodded regardless. A gesture she returned, turning her attention on the students arrayed sporadically around the room. “Our first match of the day is a challenge exhibition between Jaune Arc, of Ansel, and Yang Xiao Long of-” Ruby interrupted, then, to whoop and cheer excitedly, and the blonde woman’s eyes snapped to her, “Miss Rose, be still and calm, please.”

“Sorry…”

“As I was saying,” the Headmistress sighed after a few long moments, “Jaune Arc of Ansel, and Yang Xiao Long, of Patch and Signal academy. They each wanted to challenge each other to a spar and informed me as such. Remember that any student may spar any student, so long as they get my approval before class to do so. It is always a great method for growing your combat skills, facing a variety of opponents”

Left unsaid in the introduction was an implication, from the lack of an Academy name to follow in his introduction. Yang had been formally trained in a formal Academy, with multiple Hunters and support staff to ensure a quality, regulation education. It could mean he’d been taken in and trained by the best Hunter on the frontier, or one of them rather, and then admitted on recommendation rather than accreditation. Or, equally likely, it could mean he passed or somehow cheated tests and the system out where such was easier to do for lack of infrastructure and now he was here. 

Prodigy trained by a veteran directly, or a country bumpkin just smart enough to cheat his way into the Academy, those were his options, and the rumor mill would run them. Though hopefully, his displays in Initiation had gone some distance in picking which the mill would decide to take as fact.

“Dust barriers are in place and ready, and the Aura readouts are registering both of you.” The woman went on, running roughshod through his musings and drawing his attention back to the present. “Are you both prepared for the bout?”

“Yes, Headmistress.”

“Yep- Yes ma’am!”

“Better, Miss Xiao Long. I would have hated to have to issue you extra assignment for disrespecting me. Again.” Goodwitch murmured, smirking almost haughtily at the rapid amendment to the blonde’s statement. The students around them chuckled and laughed, for a moment, before the woman started speaking and they, fearfully from what he could sense washing across the Force, quieted down. “The match will continue until a student is rendered unconscious, their Aura drops below thirty percent, or they are pinned or wounded in such a way as to be unable to reasonably continue the bout. Are these terms agreeable?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” They chorused brightly, excitement crackling across the great ocean of the Force like lightning. A tempest that crackled as much from the students, who were excited to see Jaune fight after Initiation and Yang fight period as famous as she was from her Signal days, as it did from Yang and Jaune themselves. 

“Then in time with the chime, you may begin your fight.” Goodwitch said, the Dust barrier darkening to obscure their view outside the ring - for their focus, he guessed - and the lights overhead dimming ever so slightly to prevent glare. 

Overhead, the display chimed its warning gently, and the two slid into the ready, the woman taking a relatively classic and easy boxing stance. Jaune himself slid his off foot forward, his armored side held out warily, palm up defensively, while his other arm turned the glaive in his hand and brought it low and back, the tip nearly touching the floor and the curved edge resting against the back of his calf. A second chime echoed and he flicked his hood up with the Force, to obscure her sight of his face and were he was looking, while the woman started bouncing on her heels.

Finally, the starting bell chimed, and the fight was underway. 

“A hammer fights in such a way as to levy as much damage directly into the bulk of an opponent.” Instructor had explained to him, panting on the ground and clutching his stomach where the mechanical menace had devastated him a few moments prior. As always, Jaune had made a mistake. And as always, instructor had dealt him a lesson filled with bruise inducing pain and left him reeling on the floor, pacing and watching the young trainee coldly. “But do not assume that they will be slow. Or you will die, boy. And that would make you a waste of my time.”

The blonde’s arms snapped back and away to either side of her body, throwing aside the classical boxer’s guard and blasting concussive rounds into the hardened cement of the arena floor. The blast hurtled her forward, the woman tucking her legs in to turn her bodily in the air and a fist rearing back to crush down on him as her arc, expertly made after years training to do it, carried her straight to him. An attack that gave her the speed she needed to close with her opponent, and bring a hammer’s devastating power to bear against them.

Unfortunate for her, then, that he’d seen that trick once or twice already, in a spar days prior and in Initiation both.

His off hand curled into a fist and reared back, lashing out in a powerful uppercut that would have driven the breath from the woman, if she’d been in reach. Instead, the driving blow called on the invisible hand of the Force to do it for him. The woman cried out and broke over the invisible ball of raw, primal energy that slammed into her gut with all the gentleness of a cannon, her body curling around it and then plummeting towards the hard ground below. H knew better than to think she’d been defeated, though, and launched towards her, the Force cracking the ground as he leapt.

Yang landed on a hand, letting it collapse in a controlled fashion and rolling across the ground, coming up in a defensive stance with her arms across her chest in time to intercept Jaune’s probing slash. His glaive whistled through the air from left to right in a powerful slash, but the woman simply bounced it off an Aura protected left hand, sacrificing precious Aura to send the glaive high over her head and open his guard. The other lashed out and caught him on the chin as he stepped back to evade, barely chipping it but, from Yang, still a painful blow to take.

The blow forced him back, the blonde Force wielder staggering from Yang’s sheer force, far outstripping Instructor’s own strength. The machine had favored delivering pain through devastatingly powerful, accurate blows, while Yang’s blows were pure power. 

Grinning, Yang made to follow, but he warded her off by releasing his glaive and letting it spin through the air, a sound like a saw whirring as it steadily advanced on her and forced her to back away. The retreat, he was sure, was less for fear of damage and more wriness for his unknown ‘Semblance’ and what it could do, and he could sense the lack of true fear in her. Still, the glaive’s spinning forced her back and he grinned, leaping back into the fray, the weapon sliding into his hand in the middle of him swinging his arm like it had already been there, sending the blade towards Yang’s throat as he stepped in.

Yang leaned back and let the strike land across her chest, Aura flecking away along the blade’s length, and then lashed out and caught him in the stomach with a kick. A kick that was to prelude a flurry of blows as the woman leaned in, one hand gripping his glauve’s haft to force his guard wide so she could step in and grip the front of his loose robes. Pressing against him, she released his useless glaive and wrapped the arm around his head, holding him there by his hood while her fist pummeled into his stomach again and again just under his light armor piece, coming in lightning fast blows that robbed him of breath regardless of his Aura dampening the attack. 

“Ragh!” He cried, pushing her away as hard as he could with the Force, the woman’s hand yanking his hood as she was hurled away. She landed on her back but turned it into a roll, coming up and aiming to counter him. Again, he sent an invisible hand of the Force into her, this time shoving against her sternum and forcing her down as her gauntlets came up, cracking the fury of her attack.

He felt fire burn along his left arm in long tracks and cried out, recoiling and turning instinctively to protect the limb. The buckshot round, for that was what it was, had torn along his upper arm and shoulder, his focus on the Force robbing him of the normal protection his Aura would have offered. Now ugly, ragged hunks of flesh were missing, red running down his arm while he scowled and turned back to the fight, glaive whistling as he let it spin, launching through the air towards the blonde woman.

Invisible hands not attuned to the Force gripped him and lifted him, pushing him and his weapon away from Yang as the headmistress called out, “Enough! The match is over!”

“My Aura is fine, and I don’t yield!” He argued, landing on his feet and catching the weapon as the headmistress sent it to him, blue eyes scowling up at her while red ran down his arm. “I can still fight!”

“You are bleeding all over my arena!”

“It’s a scratch!” He argued, lifting the wounded arm to make a show of his lack of caring about the admittedly ugly and painful wounds. “I’ve fought with a lot worse than this, Headmistress.”

“You’ve been shot, Mister Arc, and I will not allow-”

“I yield!” Yang interrupted them both, before Jaune could argue and get in trouble or the headmistress could finish her response. Two blonde’s looked at her in surprise and she held her hands up in surrender, smiling nervously. “My Aura’s at sixty, his is at eighty some freaking how, so I yield. Probably wouldn’t have won it anyhow, he keeps flinging me across the floor.”

“...Very well, then, Miss Xiao Long.” The headmistress coughed and, more officially, called out, “The match ends in a victory by surrender, in favor of Mister Arc, then. Next time, use your Aura properly to protect against attacks.”

“My Semblance takes too much concentration to use and maintain my defence at the same time.” He argued simply, “It’s always a gamble, but I can’t not use it.”

“I see.” The woman didn’t rescind her chastisement though, and she reeked of dislike and disapproval, and Jaun shrugged it off. “Miss Xiao long, accompany Mister Arc to the infirmary, if you please. Explain to the doctor what happened and let him examine Ember Celica if he requests it, it would be in order to better ascertain how to treat Mister Arc’s injuries.”

He wanted to argue, but knew that sending her along with the weapon was more than reasonable. Hunter weapons were so unique, treating the wounds they inflicted tended to be hard, and having the inflicting party around to explain how a weapon worked was only useful. Even if he didn’t feel the wounds needed more than cleaning and bandaging, he didn’t argue when Yang came to his side and offered him an apologetic grimace.

“So…” She started awkwardly as they began to leave, “How’s, uh, how’s your shoulder?”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s bleeding, Jaune. Things don’t bleed when they’re fine.” She pointed out as they left the arena, the blonde warrior laying his glaive against the wall beside his locker. He would have stopped to put it away, but the blonde woman shot him a glare when he turned to head down the rows of lockers to do that, so he settled on leaving it in the room instead. 

“I’ve had a lot worse, Yang.” A lot worse, in fact. Broken bones, burns, cuts, blaster burns, and so on down the list of what Instructor had put him through. “I don’t need to go to the infirmary, I can clean this up with some water.”

“Here, it’ll keep you from… Dripping.” Yang grunted, offering him one of the clean linen wraps the school kept in the locker rooms for students to use. It was little more than a sterile blanket, and he wrapped it around the wound in spite of the slowing of the bleeding if only to satisfy the brawler. “Sorry I shot you, though.”

“Don’t tell me I’m the first person you’ve had a training accident with.” It was unbelievable, but she echoed of a kind of upset that warranted him asking the question. The last thing he wanted was for Yang to get upset over something like this. 

“Oh hell no. I’ve broken bones, shot people, all kinds of things. Had it done to me, too.” The woman laughed, interlacing her fingers behind her head and sighing. “But I still feel bad when it happens, you know? Like, I don’t like hurting my friends, it just...”

“Happens?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, turning her head just enough to see the ever-so-slowly pinkening linen. “I don’t like hurting people, even if I do like fighting. I just… Don’t want any hard feelings between us just because I shot you.”

“Yeah, makes sense. And, uh, there aren’t any hard feelings, Yang. I swear.” He had to remember that most people - normal people - didn’t accept grievous injury as readily as he did. 

Injuries between friends like this, he knew, could sour relationships in a way that he didn’t want to risk here, and in a way that wasn’t in play with Instructor and Sith training as a whole. Instructor would regularly hurt him in lessons, and usually expect him to learn and train through them untreated unless they were dangerous. It simply wasn’t a big deal, and the cultural shock was one that he’d be forced to admit to struggling with for some time.

And now they were settled into an awkward silence, until they reached the wide double doors that lead into the infirmary.

“So,” he started, hoping to lighten the mood and raising his injured hand slightly for the joke, “I could use a hand here, Yang. You mind?”

“Okay, listen here asshat… You’re only bleeding, you don’t get to make like you’re a cripple now.” She grinned in spite of the complaint to show it was all in play and grabbed the door to open it, bowing at the waist and smiling widely. With an air of a begrudgingly helpful aristocrat, but the grin of a cheshire cat, the woman drawled, “The door for you, my lord, since you rinjuries slow you so much.”

He laughed and stepped through into the infirmary, glad things had returned to being so easy. A gladness that vanished very quickly when the head doctor, a Faunus woman with a wide grin to match her swishing, lupine tail at seeing his injury, caught sight of him and started to make her way over.

He wouldn’t be there for very long, though he sensed it would feel much longer than it would be.

“It’s not that bad, you guys. Just a little gunshot and bruising.” He complained for the fifth morning in a row, arm still in a sling and Pyrrha carrying his books under an arm. Her own were under the other arm and Nora was ahead of them, holding doors for the two partners and scowling at Jaune like he’d done something wrong. “I can handle myself… At least in walking to class.”

“Let’s put it to another vote, then.” Ren suggested from his good side, smiling and calling out, “Who votes that Jaune has to deal with being nursed back to health?”

Three hands shot up and Jaune scowled, murmuring under his breath, “Assholes…”

Still, he had to admit in spite of his flaccid complaints, it was… Nice to have people so concerned for him, so willing to take care of him. Or, people he wasn’t related to at least. His family had, and still did in some times and places, doted on him plenty when he came home, so he was by and large used to that. But for relative strangers, team mates or not they’d only been together for so long, to be so kind and caring?

That earned a small, honest smile from him as they settled in for history class.

“Today, students, we will be discussing the Faunus Rights Revolution.”Doctor Oobleck began as they settled in, the learned man ignoring the indignant scoff of Cardin in the corner of a room. Beyond a grimace, at least. Without comment, the doctor explained quickly. “As all of you should know, the Faunus Rights Revolution was a revolution against the discriminatory isolation of the Faunus as a race on the island Menagerie. The Human kingdoms wanted to imprison the race on the island, and they rejected this.”

“The reasons for the Revolution are varied, depending on which Kingdom Menagerie warred with during the conflict. However, one fact is certain about the conflict, outside of circles best left ignored.” At the, Jaune could have sworn the good doctor’s eyes flicked to the young Winchester. But behind his glasses, the young Force sensitive couldn’t be entirely sure. “The Revolution was fought for basic rights that all sentient beings are entitled to. Chief among them being the right to move freely unless a reason is given for it to be barred.”

“As if one wasn’t…”

“Mister Winchester, if you have something to say, by all means. Speak up.” The grumble had been quiet, but either for training or watching the young trainee, Oobleck caught it easily. With a polite smile that belied agitation Jaune didn’t need the Force to sense, the man asked, “Please, young man. What did you say? What would you like to share with the class?”

“I said,” the man started in a sneer, “that there was a reason they were being put on the island.”

“And what reason was that, then? Please, I do seem to have forgotten.” Cardin hesitated to answer for a long moment and, either seizing it for effect or lacking patience for the man, Oobleck offered him an answer. “Or do you mean the speciesist policies that the Kingdoms less savory leaders wanted enacted? The ethnic imprisonment of a people? I should hope not, as that is not a valid reason to incarcerate people.”

“Why not?” Cardin asked, pride nettled enough to fall into the pit Oobleck had tried to keep him out of. Standing, the man leaned on the desk and asked simply, “If everyone didn’t want them around, why should we have to let them be around us?”

“Hm. I believe a lesson in empathy might work best her.” The doctor answered simply, smiling politely and waving a hand towards the door. “Regardless of your qualifications and paid tuition, much like the Faunus’ lost land, homes, businesses and property, I don’t want you here in my class. So leave. Or would you prefer to stay in this, a class required for you t pass in order to be licensed?”

“I…”

“Do you want to leave?” Oobleck pressed, “Or, in spite of my wishing you gone right now personally, do you argue you have a right to be on a professional and legal basis?”

“I have a right to be here…”

“Yes, you do.” Oobleck agreed simply, smiling like a parent would to a child on the cusp of learning a valuable lesson they’d thus far missed out on. “Just like every Faunus had a right to live, work and be, generally, in the Kingdoms. Hence the Faunus Rights Revolution, a fight for those basic rights that I encourage you to enjoy right now. Like the right to remain silent, particularly in fields of law but, today, in my classroom as well, Mister Winchester.”

Feeling petulant, and sore from his arm, Jaune smirked when Cardin made to sit. And, with a flick of his foot, the chair across the room lifted and slide back silently, just far enough that Cardin fell with a loud thud. Laughter ensued, Jaune’s joining the class’, and the man clambered into his seat with a red face sour, pursed lips. 

“Jaune!” Pyrrha whispered, knowing his ‘Semblance’ and scandalised but smiling nonetheless. Grinning ear to ear, the Mistralian leaned close and murmured, “You should behave, Jaune. You don’t want detention with Doctor Oobleck, you’ll be writing papers for a week.”

He waved it off, the man was already moving on to discussing the first battle of the war, in Mistral. Instead, he turned slightly to look out of the corner of his eye at Blake, who was sending waves of emotion into the Force. Beside the woman, Yang sat, a hand on her forearm and lips moving as she said something Jaune couldn’t here from across his own team and team RWBY both, the slight curve of the desk the only reason he could see Blake and Yang.

Something was going on there, though he wasn’t sure whether or not he should care…

‘It isn’t like whatever is bothering Blake could affect me, really.’ He finally decided, shrugging mentally and turning his attention back to class. Oobleck talked faster than bullets flew, so he’d need to pay attention to try and keep up properly.

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“I know, Kitty-Cat. Dust, believe me, I know, he’s an ass like nothing else I’ve ever seen.” Yang murmured, giving the other woman’s forearm an affectionate squeeze before, now she’d calmed, letting her go and checking Ruby was being kept busy by Weiss. Satisfied, she gave Blake a look on her other side and grimaced at the woman’s face, leaning close again and asking, “What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong…” Blake answered and accused, giving her a sidelong glance. 

Cardin was trashing the Faunus, and Blake wanted to stand up for them. But she couldn’t make too big a show of it or she’d risk being found out for what she was, amd for whatever reasons Blake had, she did not want that. And while yang could think of any number of reasons, like Cardin’s bullying, she’d not yet really figured out why Blake was hiding it from everyone in their circle of friends too. Hiding something big made some sense when you first met people, but now they’d known each other for a while, so she felt like Blake should open up a bit about it. Not just to her, but to her team and, maybe, her friends in Juniper too.

Then again, Yang had no experience with stuff like that except her one friend from Signal who’d hidden being gay for a while. Not exactly comparable, here, given the things Blake had alluded to going through. Her friend had just been shy, and felt weird, about that kind of stuff. Not wanted her female friends, Yang included, to think she was some horndog like most guys were. Blake, though?

Blake was scared of something.

“You know, if you wanted to, you could tell us what’s going on.” Blake’s glance turned hard and sharp and Yang bumped her shoulder against her before she could speak, asking for a moment. Blake gave it and Yang explained, “If Weiss knew what was up, she’d back off. And if everyone knew, like, our teams I mean,” she amended when Blake’s brows rose, “if we all knew, then maybe things would be… Easier.”

“I’m…” For a long moment, Yang thought Blake might agree. She chewed her lip and her gaze glazed over while she thought, fingers drumming on the wood and clicking the pen in her hand nervously. Finally, though, she dashed Yang’s hopes. I’m not… Not ready, Yang. Not… Not yet.”

“I understand.” She didn’t, really. But she’d accept it for Blake’s sake, even if she didn’t understand it at all. Hoping to be the bridge she drummed her fingers on the table and asked, low enough Weiss couldn’t hear through Ruby’s questions about the notes, “Well, if you can’t tell them about it… Tell me?”

“I don’t...”

“Nothing big! But you need to work on this, on trusting us I mean. We can’t be a real team, do as well as we could, if you don’t trust us.” Yang rushed, patting Blake’s arm a couple times and smiling gently, to show there was no anger in her words. “Just… Start small. Little things. Okay?”

“Okay, Yang… Okay.” Blake nodded after almost a full minute of silence between them, the blonde’s leg bouncing under the table anxiously while she tried to wait patiently. Seeing Yang’s wide, bright smile, Blake added as quickly as she could, “It won’t be anything major, but… I need to work on this, you’re right about that.”

Yang had learned really well from half-raising Ruby, though. You take your wins when you can get them, and never look a gift horse in the mouth.

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Apologies for slight delays in chapters, had the move and am starting work on original content stories as of the previous Monday. We’re going to have the first up on Archive inside a month, depending on people’s schedules, and possibly with art included~!

Thanks for reading and being patient as always.

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Logist : 

Yeah, Blake has some failings, but that’s not bad in making a character. People are full of such base failings and failures of logic, typically because they don’t notice the solution or logical failing. This Review, for instance. In it you assert a lot, like complaining that Blake didn’t change her clothes or go to another continent, but fail to register some obvious things.

Aside from Beacon where Ozpin pulled strings for her, Blake has no MONEY to go anywhere or buy new clothing and weapons. Also, the bow very clearly works, as many people don’t register she is a Faunus. Winchester harasses every Faunus we see at Beacon except Blake. Her team also didn’t realize. And if Blake isn’t supposed to be safe at an ACADEMY OF TRAINED FIGHTERS, then where is safe? Ozpin CLEARLY thinks it is, given what HE stores at the Academies.

The same underpay, overwork, bad conditions happened IRL too. You can’t just leave a job that does that for, among other reasons, not being able to AFFORD to. Faunus, like black people, like the chinese, like gay people, and so on, don’t want their asses kissed. They want equal rights, and don’t have it, even if some of the examples I gave do now.

The Faunus are a representation of a history of discrimination and oppressions, and so you can look at history across many nations and see their plight replicated in various ways. The Nazis, for one instance, originally wanted to force the Jewish people - and others - onto Madagascar and Palestine until Hitler realized the issues that posed and gave up on it. The chinese were not given proper equipment - like, and I made this example in the chapter for a reason, helmets - for the job. 

So I sincerely apologize for any offense I may have caused in my response, and genuinely DO NOT MEAN ANY I just want you to see the character in a different light, and will leave it here. Thank you for reading and reviewing, as always.

Gaspachu :

All pairings are, as yet, undecided. If Blake and Yang do as they did in the show here in this story and naturally grow closer, BMBLB will show up. If they don’t, it won’t. I can’t promise much beyond, sorry, on the case of ships. 

As for Force users… Maybe~

Greer :

Not really. Her only points were that they could leave if they wanted, which is untrue, and they could unionize if they wanted better, safer equipment, which happened in the past according to Blake - a WF insider and friend of Adam, who worked in said mines canonically and would thus know - to absolutely no success. 

Really, it was Blake being snippy and Weiss parroting her father. Or, I meant it to be that.

Captain Dick Scratcher :

He could have tried, yes, but he didn’t want to hurt Cardin. Remember that his Force is supposedly his Semblance, according to the school, so they could figure it out. Combine that with the conversation leading up to it and, well…

Also, Jaune wanted to be vindictive. Bit of that Sith nature coming to the fore.

Dragon Lord Syed :

She’s still got that parental influence, just like canon. Don’t worry, she’ll get better.

Zenith tempest :

Amber would only be possible if I run down the Force Healing line of things, which is undecided. Is a good suggestion, though, and one noted.

Talon Ibn La Ahad :

As usual, a big, wonderful review from my favorite reviewer. Not a whole lot for me to say in response, though, beyond the obvious ‘spoilers’ answers I could give. Though I did give you the Yang and Jaune fight!

XD


	11. Chapter 11

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Almost a full month passed after Initiation before schedules opened up enough to give him personal time, and another fortnight was nearly added before he - as a first year - was allowed to go into the Grimm-filled forests around Beacon. The reasons for it were obvious, really. Inexperienced city dwelling Hunter trainees going off cocksure and arrogant could wind up dead, if they weren’t vetted first by a number of weeks of combat courses and, of course, the heavily monitored Initiation process. Not to mention the fact that the first month and change would be taken up with orientations, explanations, term start tests, curriculum assignments, explanations of Valean policies for the non-native trainees, like Jaune and Pyrrha, and so on through the chore of academic tutelage. 

The problem was that he needed to be in nature every now and again, to center himself and prevent one side of the Force or the other overwhelming his control and off balancing him. Weakening him.

“So I need to go out into the Emerald Forest, to meditate and train my Semblance properly.” He finished his explanation, sitting across from the middle-aged woman in her office, the sun low and casting orange rays like fire into the darkening sky. 

The office was surprisingly tame fare, considering the prestige that Beacon Academy held in the Hunter world at large. A main mahogany door that led into a moderately large room with a mahogany desk and a comfortable, leather backed chair on either side, for the woman and for students both. Opposite the door that let him in from the hallway, flanked by two massive bookshelves that covered every inch of the walls except what was made up of windows on his left, was another door just like the first. Through which, he assumed from her slightly relaxed clothing and food, would be her living quarters. 

“And you want… Permission to violate standard Beacon procedures and go into the Emerald Forest.” She asked, sounding tired and stirring a spoon in her tea idly. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” And he’d prefer permission to do it, too, rather than sneaking off in the middle of the night to handle his affairs and risking trouble. Hoping it would help, he rushed to add, “I used to do so by myself in Ansel all the time. And before that, too, back when I was training to make my way home.”

“Because you need to… Meditate, as you said?” The Headmistress asked in clarification, sitting across her desk from him with a half-eaten sandwich on a plate beside her keyboard, the glow of her computer backlighting her face and lending her a somewhat paler appearance than normal. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” He’d interrupted her meal, but being the kind woman he knew she was now after so long in the academy, she’d set aside her meal to see to his needs. “And, ah, thank you for agreeing to talk to me. I know it’s late, and the start of the weekend too.”

“It is quite alright.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. So while he knew she would tolerate him, he also knew just as well that she really wanted him to leave. She’d never say so, of course, being too polite for that. “And this is all to better control your Semblance?”

“Yes, Headmistress, it is.” He nodded, sitting in his uniform and fighting the urge to twiddle his thumbs, even if it would definitely sell the ‘nervous schoolboy’ look he was actively fighting. “It’s… It’s important for me. For me to stay at the top of my form, I mean.”

He wasn’t nervous, not at all. 

Goodwitch was just terrifying, enough for even Instructor to have been impressed, he was fairly certain. 

“We have made exceptions to our strict rules in the past. Often to…” He sensed a pang of regret and pain there, echoing out from the woman even though her face and voice betrayed none of it. And he felt his curiosity rise to match it, and squashed it down. “Well. Unfortunate ends, I suppose. Regardless of the reasons behind the decisions and how well informed or intentioned they may have been, lives have been lost. Civilians and students alike.”

“This isn’t one of those times, Headmistress.” He said to the woman as much to himself, pushing his curiosity away until he could look it up online later. 

“Oh really? I’ve heard that before.” There was the regret and anger again, echoing out of the woman as loudly as her words did. Frowning, she finished, “I can’t even begin count the number of unfortunates from cockiness like that, Mister Arc.”

“I see… I understand your worry, even if I don’t…. Know everything that happened.” He couldn’t afford to press her and find out, though. Now was not the time to be dredging up memories that had her already upset. He would get nowhere fast that way. 

Instead, he tried to be diplomatic, lacing the truth with some of the falsehoods his family had helped push to get him here to make his argument. “I’m trained, Headmistress. And I’ve been fighting for years, against far scarier things than the kinds of Grimm in the Emerald Forest. You know my history and what it entails, so you know I am not arrogant here.”

“Yet you did not fare well against Miss Xiao Long.” The woman pointed out, pinching off a piece of her sandwich and, as politely as she could, popping it into her mouth. 

“That’s a symptom, Headmistress.” He argued, “Not the cause of the problem. The cause is my not meditating properly.”

“Why would that cause this kind of problem?” She raised a hand when he started to speak, asking for, and getting, a moment’s pause. “Be detailed, Mister Arc. I’m considering your request, and depending on your explanation, I may or may not accept it. So do yourself a favor, young man, and choose your words very carefully.”

Now he felt another wave of roiling emotions roll off of her, this time suspicious and dark outright. What she could suspect, he had no idea, but she was suspicious of something around him or something in general, and he couldn’t tell which.

“The people who took me in were a small group, fishers and travellers mostly. Most of them practiced a religion that I haven’t heard of outside their grouping.” There were no details there she could attempt to verify, he knew. There were dozens of wandering, migratory tribes along the coast, hopping between Sanus, Anima and even Menagerie on boats of their own and rented ones. “Out there, Auras are awakened more often than in the city, because of how harsh the world can be. Grimm, bandits, the labor of simply surviving, all can awaken an Aura young.”

“Indeed it can.” She nodded, pinching off another piece of her sandwich to eat while he went on. 

“And every group, tribe, what have you, they all handle teaching people how to control their Auras and Semblances differently.” He went on, “The group I was with, and the man who adopted me especially, were highly religious. They practiced martial training to hone their control, and meditation. My Semblance was always more in tune with that, being a mental application much like your own is.”

“You focus and imagine, or think through what you want to be more precise, to enact your will through your Semblance.” She responded, explaining her own Semblance methodology at least in the generic sense, to see if he would agree. He did, nodding, and she asked, “So how does your meditation help your Semblance specifically? And why can you not simply do so somewhere here on Beacon’s campus, where you’d be infinitely safer?”

“My Semblance allows me to attune to my environment and… Use the state of it, to augment my control, if you get what I mean.” She nodded, and though he sensed her unsurety, he could not confront her on it without raising questions. Questions he didn’t want to have to be trying to piece safe answers to, and maintain his important lie at the same time. “I can feel the environment around me, almost like… Like when you take a bath, you can feel the hot water and steam.”

“It’s comforting, but also focusing. It simultaneously makes me happier and stronger, letting me process information and emotions and better myself whenever I can.” He went on quickly, before the woman could interrupt with a question or over think what he was saying. 

Half of a good lie was controlling what a person thought about, and he’d learned how to do it well enough from Instructor to at least pantomime his skills at the art. “It helps me understand what I am learning and process the information more quickly, and maintains my control of my Semblance besides. It weakens me and can be dangerous not to meditate in a natural place often enough.”

“Dangerous how?”

“If I can’t focus properly, I can put too much force behind an attack or motion with my Semblance. Suddenly a nudge is a cannonball to the face.” That had happened in training quite a few times. Metal dummies crushed and warped under what was supposed to be simply turning them around. “Or I need to focus too much, and miss an attack I should have seen coming, and get shot.”

It was a low blow, definitely, but this was an important matter to him. Beyond the homage he was forced to pay to his lie of a background, and the protections he needed for it, he was being entirely truthful. This was as much a part of his training as exercises, diet, and sparring, and he couldn’t let it slip away to the detriment and risk of himself and his team. If he had to play dirty to protect himself and his goals, then so be it.

He was, after all, no Jedi.

“Ah, I… I see what you mean, then, I believe. And why you came to talk to me, when I assume you found no other recourse.” The woman grimaced at his nod, and then took in a deep breath that ended in an exhausted sigh. 

“I’m sorry if I’m being a bother…” She would find some solution for him now, he knew, because she would not risk a student coming to harm when she could, and now he just needed to play the polite student and wait. 

“You are not, Mister Arc, I assure you of that much. Our students’ needs and improvement are our first priority…” The woman paused for a moment, to consider something, and then turned to her computer and began typing at a speed he only wished he could match. Endless hours of practice, he was certain, had lent her that kind of speed and skill. “I will have your Scroll registered with perimeter security to admit you access on occasion into the forest.”

“Thank you, Miss-”

“You will not abuse this privilege by going out there constantly, and your partner will accompany you out each and every time.” He grimaced at the second part, but nodded. Pyrrha would need to know the full half-truth he’d told Ruby at some point anyway, and now he had a good reason to tell her all about it. “Further, you will go out on weekends, and if I find out you are taking advantage of this kindness it will be rescinded. Understood?”

“Yes, Headmistress.”

“Very good. Yes… Very good.” She nodded, taking a deep breath and seemingly resigning herself to the risk she was taking. Or rather, to the risk she was allowing him to take. “Check in with security when you come and go, and I don’t mean the droids. Find a guardsman to clear you to leave and enter, and remember your weaponry and armor. Tell Miss Nikos of this as well.”

“I will, Headmistress. I swear it.” He nodded, smiling at the resolution. It had been easier than he’d feared, getting this cleared the way he needed it. 

“Then on your way, young man.” She waved towards her door, smiling gently and jokingly adding, “Now if you would leave me be, I would rather enjoy finally having my dinner.”

Laughing, he nodded and stood to leave, giving the woman a more respectful nod in farewell as well. The woman returned it, but didn’t say anything as he left, and after a moment he stepped out into the hall and pulled the door behind him. 

“Well, how did it go?” Pyrrha asked, the saint that she was for waiting out in the hall only staff frequented with any real regularity. The woman smiled after a second and crossed her arms, chuckling, “Never mind, I can see on your face that it went well, Jaune.”

“You can?” He blinked at the statement, surprised and worried. Was he so easy to read?

“Oh yes. You have this grin that you always sport when you’re happy, and a glint in your eye when you are excited.” She stepped past him without waiting for him to react, clasping her hands at the back of her waist as they walked back towards the dorm. 

Like that, she looked and echoed a feeling of nothing less than a satisfied, carefree and content student. It was an infectious feeling, and drew a smile to his own face as well as they stepped out to cross a courtyard back towards the student dorm. “So, what was decided then, Jaune? Did things go to plan as you had hoped?”

Around them, lit by the fluorescent, moth swarmed streetlights that were the norm for Vale, the trees and grass were mostly green. But around the edges, buts nibbled at leaves tinging with orange and red, the onset of fall driving them to feast ahead of the cold season. The grass’ growth has slowed as well with the same onset, showing even more the worn footpath that had been beaten by feet into the grass and ground, stretching across the forty feet or so of the courtyard.

‘The onset of fall, and nature’s rest soon to follow.’ Or so Instructor would have put it.

“I’ll be allowed into the Emerald Forest as long as I don’t take advantage of it and spend all weekend, every weekend, out there.” He finally answered after a few minutes. “As long as I do that, she said it was fine.” 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she didn’t like it but… She understands that I need this, and it feels like she’s being lenient with me.” Or at least, that was how he extrapolated what ‘don’t take advantage’ meant. Better to ask for forgiveness for a misunderstanding than for permission to get more than you were given, he figured. “The conditions are that I check in and out with security, and I, uh, need you to be with me. For protection, apparently. Since we’re first years.”

“I see. Such is a more than reasonable set of requirements, I suppose.” She turned to look over her shoulder and meet his eyes and then chuckled, waving a hand around them. “It is getting cold, and the Grimm could cut you off from Beacon. Better to have an ally to help you, should you be trapped out on a cold night. No?” 

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true.” And when winter came, it would be three times as true, he knew. 

“Ah, but fall is such a beautiful season…” Her green eyes turned to him, corners crinkling in a smile as his stomach dropped out from under him and he felt nausea well up. The smile vanished, replaced by anxiety and she turned as he sagged against a tree beside the worn dirt path across the tree-filled courtyard. “Jaune? Are you well?”

It was odd, but something about her tickled at the back of his mind in that moment. Like the way your hairs stood on end and your heart raced when someone told you something foreboding, or you saw something ominous that got to you deeper than it probably should have. Something wrong feeling, that he couldn’t place, instead flailing for the answer and receiving nothing but the fading sense of trepidation and foreboding

“Are you alright?” She asked quietly, helping him sit against the tree while he caught his breath. He reached out with the Force, trying to find the source of that malignancy, but only found Pyrrha’s worry and, distantly, the echoing, weak emotions of the people of Beacon. Lacking a source for the sensation, he withdrew and turned to look at the woman who asked again, “Are you alright, Jaune? You look ashen.”

“I’m… I’m fine, I think.” He wasn’t fine, not really. He was confused, and didn’t understand what he’d just felt. Pyrrha stood and offered him a hand that he accepted, letting her pull him up, and he wondered aloud. “I was told my abilities could overwhelm me if I couldn’t maintain them… I wonder if this is that?”

“Perhaps…” Pyrrha swallowed anxiously, smiling and putting on a brave front for him. “I have heard of many Semblances and Semblance types that come with such problems. This just means we will be going out tomorrow to deal with your own, bright and early if you are feeling well enough.”

“We’ll see.” He’d need to, if only to delve a bit deeper and see if he could find where that… Malignancy had come from. Now, he wondered if Miss Goodwitch’s own sense of malignant paranoia had come from her or echoed from somewhere else around them.

Tomorrow, he’d meditate on it and find out what exactly had happened, he swore.

When they’d gotten to their dorm, he was still ashen and upset. Confused, the other duo had hopped up, ready to help however they could until he explained that his Semblance had acted up and he needed rest and to head into the forest to deal with it in the morning. At the mention that he’d be fine with Pyrrha with him, and they could relax, Nora had scoffed and laughed outright. 

“Oh please, fearless leader, you know better than that.” She said when he asked what was so funny, giving him a hard stare that showed a fire and certainty that surprised him. “If you think we’re sending you off into Grimm filled woods with just Pyr - no offense, P, you’re perfect and awesome - you have another thing coming.”

“But I’ll be-”

“Fine, especially with three relatively well trained team members around you to protect you.” Ren cut him off, the trio giving him flat stares and firm smiles to show how very, very outnumbered, and thus outvoted, he was. 

“Fine, fine. I know when I’m beaten.” He sighed, waving them off and plopping down on the edge of his bed with a groan. His stomach wasn’t steady as of yet, unfortunately, but he grimaced and put it to the back of his mind for now and asked, “So what did I miss while I was meeting with Team RWBY? I know you all were hanging out until just a few minutes ago.”

“Blake and Yang ran off early to deal with some stuff, while we gamed in the library. They didn’t say for what, but Ruby and Weiss both said they had been working together on something for a while now, so we let it go.” Ren explained while Pyrrha and Nora ducked into the bathroom to change into their sleeping clothes and they changed in the room proper, for modesty on both ends. “The War game went alright, and we’re all headed into Vale on Sunday to hang out. Assuming you feel up for it.”

“We’ll see.” He didn’t fancy a trip into Vale, surrounded by so many people, really. But tomorrow he would be able to balance and center himself, and so he was certain he’d be fine.

“You’ll be right, come the morning, Jaune.” Ren assured him, laying in the bed beside Jaune’s and sighing. “I’ll make you a home remedy I and Nora made use of in Mistral, it’ll settle your stomach and give you energy. Nora is already looking forward to everyone hanging out on Sunday. Yang and Blake said they had something important to talk about.”

“All right, all right.” Sighing, he fell back onto his bed and pulled the covers over himself, knowing already that he would be going regardless. It was annoying, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. They were his team, and that meant that he needed them on his side if he were to be a hero like he wanted to be. “Like I said, I know when I’m beaten, I won’t be trying to argue with Nora.”

And besides, Pyrrha and Nora would pout if he didn’t, after all. And their pouting was essentially a weapon at this point, even if they didn’t compare to the veritable weapon of mass destruction that was a Ruby Rose trademarked pout.

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During the day and early evening, the Library of Beacon was a full place, brimming with the dull and gentle thrum of hundreds of muted conversations. Just hanging out in somewhere more spacious than their dorm but heated unlike outside, studying and discussing training or the curriculums, reading and discussing books, or even helping out around the library for work, the reasons were varied and continued on into infinity. 

During the week, few wanted to make the half hour trip, plus line time, twice to get into Vale proper. A couple times, Yang had dragged team RWBY off to see Vale, but even she found the lines and waiting too much for having just a few hours until curfew. Also, Ruby got tired easily unless high explosives were involved and Weiss was a nag about homework. 

Really, Yang wished her team had the stamina to keep up with her, but oh well. She’d survive, somehow. Probably by picking on Weiss and how close she and Ruby were, the Schne always turned a bright cherry red whenever Yang did that. Especially when she did it in a full library, and had the young woman squeaking protests and flushing red for all to see.

Now, though, the Library was empty aside from a handful of the droids that the librarians employed to put books back on shelves and clean, even if technically the library was open at all hours. If you came too late, the security bots would monitor you and make sure you didn’t do anything against the rules, but by and large you would be left completely and totally alone. 

“See? No one is here at all, late as it’s getting and being Friday.” Yang prodded gently, sitting on a bean bag chair in the back of the library. Hands cupping the back of her head she yawned and stretched out on the comfy sort-of-chair and added, “And the spot you picked is great, too. Nice and quiet, plenty of privacy.”

“Yeah… I like it back here, I can read in peace.” The woman nodded, waving a hand at the brick wall to one side and then to the rows of floor to ceiling history books on the other. “No one comes back here, usually. So it’s a good place to be alone.”

“And a good place to let your hair down too, Kitty-Cat.” Yang pushed, the other woman shrinking in on herself a little on the beanbag while Yang watched her. Gently, when she saw Blake staring at the ground and drumming her fingers anxiously instead of moving to do anything, she pushed, “You picked the spot, Blake. Not me. We’re safe here, you cleared it yourself. And you’ve told me a dozen times how much your ears have been hurting.”

“They do…”

“Then take the bow off, stretch your pretty kitty ears out, feel the breeze on ‘em.” Yang prodded, smiling gently in the same way she had for Ruby when she was younger. For a while, Ruby had been scared to move, once her Semblance had kicked on and she could randomly go flinging at high speed into walls or trees. Like then, she offered, “I’m right here, Blakey. I got your back.”

“...Okay, okay, fine. Just… Keep an eye out for me, okay?” Yang nodded and she sighed, flicking her eyes to the end of the shelf at their side worriedly for a moment in spite of Yang’s agreement to watch for her, and it being nearly three yards away and dark. 

“I gotcha, Kity-cat.” The woman assured her, standing and stepping by to stand with her arms crossed towards the opening like a bouncer. It was paranoia, Yang was sure, but she wouldn’t say as much and risk offending her pride and closing her up. “Nothin’ gets past Momma Yang, you can bet on that.”

“I am not calling you ‘Momma Yang’.” The woman chuckled, Yang’s sensitive ears catching the sound of fabris rustling for a moment before her Faunus friend sighed. “Brothers, that’s better…”

“Knew it would be.” Even on guard duty, so to speak, she turned to look at the woman and smiled. “Your ears are cute, you know.”

“Yang…” Blake flushed at the compliment, her velvet ears pressing flat against her hair in reaction. “They’re just ears… Complimenting them is weird.”

“And my tits are just sacks of fat hanging off my chest, but guys compliment those all the time.” To her face less so, but the point was made. She could have gone further and pointed out Blake’s oft praised behind, too, but the woman was already blushing and Yang didn’t want to push her too hard. “They’re cute, and I said so. Just take the compliment already, you bad kitty.”

“Yang that’s kind of racist…” The woman sniggered, though, and that let Yang know she wasn’t serious about the allegation. That and the playful flicking of her ears.

“Nah.” She shrugged, turning back to watch the entrance like the bodyguard she was now.

“You can’t just ‘nah’ racism, Yang!” Blake laughed outright now, though, and Yang joined her for a short, bright moment. After a second, the two settled into silence and Blake asked, “So… Are you going to ask about the White Fang?”

“Nope, ‘cuz I don’t really care about that noise all that much.” Blake had told her a few times now that she’d been a member. It was like she expected to be judged and derided for it, Yang could see it on her face whenever she brought it up and hear it in her voice now. “If you start talkin’ about your past, I’ll listen. But I won’t push for information I don’t have a right to.”

“Don’t you?” Blake asked, “You are my partner, my past could… Could affect you. Hurt you.”

“And Weiss’ last name could too, if some asshat comes after her for it.” Yang shrugged, not even deigning to look to Blake for what she saw as a true non-issue. “Grimm claws, a mugger’s shiv, some asshat’s bullet, I’d get between any of you and any of it. Why it’s there doesn’t matter a lick to me, just that the people I care about are okay.”

“But-”

“No buts involved here but yours and mine, Kitty-Cat.” She cut her off, finally turning to beam at the woman, who rolled her eyes at the terrible joke and fought to hide her smile behind a hand. Still grinning, Yang called her out, “Oi, don’t roll my eyes and then snigger behind your hand. My jokes are funny, damn it!”

“They’re tolerable, but I wouldn’t call them funny.” Blake argued, waving a hand at the beanbag across the low table from her. “Sit down, I can hear if anyone is coming with my good ears uncovered.”

“Good ears…?” In response, while Yang sat, Blake leaned forward and pulled her hair back on one side. There, Yang saw two natural Human ears, that the Faunus woman even wiggled in demonstration of their being real. “Huh. But I looked it up, and don’t most Faunus… Not have Human ears?”

“Well, it's actually a more fairly even split than most statistics show, especially in the Kingdoms where virtually all Faunus who do not necessarily answer the polls have some Human in their family.” Blake explained simple, Yang not really knowing enough to bother arguing or overthinking the subject. Blake was a Faunus, she’d know better than Yang ever could, statistics and polls be damned. “It’s a vestigial genetic trait, like your tailbone is. Leftovers of evolution, and nothing more. They work, just not as well as my more, er… Refined, I’ll say, feline ears.”

“Cats can hear better than Humans, and if you have their ears there’s nothing wrong with saying you hear better.” Yang agreed by way of explanation, offering a shrug and a smirk to show she wasn’t bothered. “I’m just here to listen, Blakey, don’t look to me for judgement. You won’t find a drop of it. This here is a judgement desert.”

“I see…”

“More desert here than Vacuo.”

“Yang…”

“I hope you don’t mind sand being coarse and rough.” She grinned, watching Blake’s eyes narrow in anticipation of the terrible joke. “Because like sand, I wanna be everywhere. Long as you’re there, I mean.”

“Gods damn it, Yang…” The Faunus rolled here eyes, falling for the trap Yang had laid, tricking her into a false sense of security. 

“Also, in your pants!” Yang crowed, throwing her hands up ahead of the dictionary Blake hurled at her in response. Laughing, Yang added, “Sweet! I can look of ‘beautiful’ and see a picture of you, now. Thanks, Blake!”

“Yang, stop that! These pickup jokes are terrible, please!” Blake flushed, smiling wide and happier than she had been all day, to Yang’s knowing eye. 

“Like paper jokes? Eh? Ehhh?” Blake hurled another book at her and she laughed. Still smiling, the blonde let her ramble off her faux-insults and hurl another book at her that the blonde brawler caught easily, stacking it with the others. 

This was a better, brighter Blake than she’d walked in on. Tomorrow, she’d ask about the White Fang, but for right now she was more content to just spend some time with her friend and let her unwind. Plus, it was fun watching her ears flick around at her jokes and the sounds Yang herself couldn’t hear.

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Okay, so, gonna do a mass Review Response here to keep from inflating the word count too terribly much. But here I will state first :

I DO NOT MEAN TO INSULT, DISRESPECT, CALL OUT, OR HURT ANYONE’S FEELINGS HERE. IF YOU FEEL LIKE I AM INSULTING YOU AT ALL, PLEASE PM ME AND I WILL EXPLAIN AND APOLOGIZE FOR ANY OFFENSE CAUSED.

I love my readers, through and through, and mean NO HARM here. I ONLY mean to be clear and concise in my understand of canon. Nothing more or less.

So, one issue at a time, and I will not be naming names. Further, I have PMs on the issue too, hence the AN response as some expressed they wanted to stay anonymous. Okay, so, I’ll start with the simplest things I have seen in Reviews and PMs about the last chapter.

First, the topic of racism as shown by the show thus far :

In V1, I believe, we are first told about the historical precedent of racism and Human supremacy in reference to the Faunus Rights Revolution, a war whose date isn’t given but which is implied to have given direct rise to the White Fang, meaning it was fairly recent. In brief, Humans wanted to force all Faunus from their homes, businesses, etc, and essentially imprison them on an island. The Faunus took exception to that, and won the following war.

However, that didn’t end the racism, only the attempted incarceration that was a result of it. Faunus are still mistreated in ways that, for those who know American history - which is not all my readers as some mention being Russian (for example) - are very similar to how minorities have been treated in America. Less pay, poor working conditions, disrespect as a race, and go so far as to torture and maim them. 

Adam Taurus, for instance, was made to work long hours in a dangerous Dust mine as a child, and maimed by being branded with ‘SDC’ across his face. For better analogues, I recommend studying American treatment of Chinese workers on the railroads as a great example, and studying the Trail of Tears for the attempted forced migration to Menagerie. Then move on to Jim Crow laws and how they worked, and note the ‘No Faunus’ sign in a Mistral bar, designed and hung as a direct callout to ‘No Coloreds’ of Jim Crow.

Then read that American history into the show’s displayed issues and you should have it down pat. I won’t super rant about it, though, beyond this. PM me, anyone, or join my discord to talk at length about it if you like.

Now for all the ‘justify Cardin’s bigotry’ people out there, WHO I ALSO LOVE :

Not all bigots are bigots for a reason. Jim Crow proponents just thought, like this story’s Cardin, that ‘coloreds/Faunus’ were lesser and needed to be kept away from ‘proper folk’. There are bigots who have reasons, and those who are bigoted and try and ‘help’ people, and those who change too, typically because they just regurgitated what they’d been told growing up. 

But sometimes, a bigot is just hateful and cruel.

Weiss for instance was the kind of racist who repeated what she'd been told, she was never a real racist. Cardin, in this story, is. I have stories where he has reasons and changes, but this isn’t one. Also, Blake not liking Schnees is not racist, its disliking a lineage. Which is still bigotry, don’t mistake me, but a different, lesser kind to my discernment.

Also, I do write stories where Cardin is other kinds of racist and changes his mind. I just want to point that out, so no one takes offense to what I am saying here. I don’t disagree with you, I’m just… Taking a different part of the spectrum of racists, so to speak.

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~)

Chris Adair :

Done~

Coda :

Fixed, I made a minor mistake, thank you for noting it.

Omega Ultima : 

He relies more on the Force than on his Aura, and my story planning reflects that. I may just take his Aura boosting Semblance and leave it be for simplicity, unless someone has a good suggestion otherwise.

MH4Life :

Yeah, but don’t hold your breath, Cardin won’t be changing much in this story. Sometimes, bigots are just bigots.

Decode Life Hacker :

Not in this story. As I just said, sometimes bigots are just bigots. I do have stories where Cardin has reasons, and where he changes. But not this run. Apologies.

Zenith Tempest :

Neither. Jaune’s chosen tactic in the fight simply didn’t work. Happens, he isn’t perfect. It was also cut short by Jaune’s wounds.

Melee Smasher :

The subplot is still ongoing. Atlesian personnel literally bar Weiss returning to Atlas for ‘people of… questionable nature’ and look to Blake. The racism subplot is a subplot, not the main one. You have to look for it and listen to the characters to really see it.


	12. Chapter 12

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At the end of Beacon Plaza, the huge complex of colonnades, fountains and greenery leading up to the Beacon Bullhead Docks, two paths split off to either side. Both were paved for hundreds of feet, wrapping along the edge of the plateau for students, staff and security alike to walk them to watch for Grimm. Or even to just look out on the woods, though it had the same effect either way. It would be hard to watch the forests and miss out on an approaching Nevermore flock, for instance, just by virtue of looking in the proper direction when they were coming.

Giant monsters were hard to miss like that, apparently. Probably because they were giant monsters, but apparently they still needed radar systems or idiots would be caught unaware.

He knew he was being petty, to think like that, but at the moment he couldn’t really bring himself to care. His emotions were too frazzled, his balance thrown off entirely by his lack of centering himself. The katas and training had, of course, done their work in staving off the worst of it but now he was so close to relief, it felt all the worse. Like a starving man smelling food cooking, or a man thirsty watching the water boil to safety. In short, suffering was at its worst when relief was in front of you.

Which was unfortunately something he had learned well, between the food problems he'd faced and Instructor being… Instructor.

And now, compounding the frustration and agitation, was the damn Guardsmen standing beside one of the two gatehouses that let out onto small, worn paths along the cliffs. Like other Beacon guards, he was a Guardsman of the Kingdom of Vale, suited in light, splinted armor and wearing a red beret to stand out from the black and silver of the rest of his padded and plated armor. On his breast, the symbol of Beacon was engraved in bright red stencil work, to stand out from the silver metal and padded black underclothing that reminded him of a gambeson.

The gatehouses themselves were a relatively more simple affair, made of a large oaked gate reinforced with steel and set into a fortification that looked ripped right out of an old medieval movie. Though these were topped by gun turrets on the rounded, raised parapets, and manned by silver and black drones rather than archers. A modern edge that was needed, heavy machine guns obviously of a significantly higher usefulness against Grimm.

“I understand you’re all on the same team, but the special dispensation’s paperwork only says his partner can go out with in. Unless she is ill, otherwise engaged, or injured.” The guardsman explained again, turning his old, gray head to look at the woman and raising his thin brows. “Unless you’re hiding a cast under that armor, I’m going to assume you’re fine.”

“I am, yes…”

“Then I can’t do anything about it, I have to follow the letter of the dispensation.” The man shrugged simply, clicking his Scroll closed and sliding it into a small metal slot in his armor for safe-keeping. Rifle slung across his chest, the older gentleman leaned back against the stone of the wall under one of the drone-manned towers and sighed tiredly. “Kingdom Guardsman follow things to the letter, kids. S’just how this kind of thing works.”

“But we’re his team!” Nora almost shouted, Ren’s arm landing on her shoulder seeming to calm her. She gave the appendage a glance, but once she registered it was Ren’s, she relaxed and untensed slightly. “We’re his team, and the dispensation required him to be accompanied for his safety. He’d be safer with P-Money, of course, but he’d be even saferer with his entire team around.”

“Probably.” The soldier nodded, “But it doesn’t matter. I follow the dispensation, not my opinions around it.”

“That’s dumb though!”

“No, Ma’am, it’s duty.” The soldier countered easily, seemingly unphased entirely by Nora’s outburst and Ren’s hushed admonitions. He was probably used to younger students causing a fuss sometimes, Jaune supposed quietly, arms crossed over his robed chest. “I and all Guardsman follow the letter of law and order, to protect everyone involved. We don’t know if and when someone neglects to mention to do, or not do, something for a good reason so we stick to our orders.”

“You may be told not to patrol a place ahead of a raid on it, for instance, and so wouldn’t enter even if you saw terrorists there for fact.” Jaune offered, the man nodding gratefully at the example and giving him a smile. In response, Jaune could only frown, and argue, “But isn’t it a fact that the wording of this could very easily be interpreted as aimed solely at protecting me and mine? And so limiting my team numbers would go against your orders?”

“Trying to be clever and play the words of the dispensation, eh?” Jaune shrugged and the soldier snorted, and then sighed tiredly. “I follow the letter direct, not an interpretation. So yeah, technically, the spirit is probably to keep people safe out there. But the letter says your partner only, so it’s your partner only.”

“We could speak to the Headmistress.” Ren offered gently, waves of concern rolling off him as he thought. “If we explain the technical failing, maybe she’d order an altered dispensation, or amend this one.”

“It would take time.” The guardsman warned, face flat while he worked his way through what was probably a tedium to him. “A dispensation takes very little, but an amendment would take a day or two to make it legal and disseminate it properly. And replacing it would take time too, while the old one is removed from the system.”

“That’s too long… We need to go out sooner than that would possibly take, Sir.” Pyrrha argued, trying gently to press him for an exception. Smiling and fighting a grimace, he could see it at the corner of her lips, she even tried something a little more underhanded than he’d have expected. “Surely, you can’t honestly be worried about us out there. I mean, you must know who I am, yes?”

“You’re a student first, and my daughter’s favorite tournament idol second.” The man laughed quietly at the second to show he was joking, and after a moment Pyrrha joined him. If only, he was sure, to evade the awkwardness of her trying to use her celebrity status to get her way. Frowning, the man added in a serious tone, “Get the documents updated with different orders, or go out as a pair. I don't care which you do, but I have my orders, and won’t betray them. Not for good reasons, not for bad.”

Murmuring apologies, the foursome turned and walked a few steps away, where they could talk more quietly and watch the Bullheads come and go in the afternoon light. He didn’t sense any agitation from the man, surprisingly enough, even after they’d pushed him the way they had. Professionalism, he supposed, but without a need to worry about it he turned to his team and smiled apologetically. 

“I guess you guys got geared up for nothing. Sorry, but they aren’t going to budge, I don’t think.” He smiled apologetically and bowed his head slightly, adding, “Thank you anyways. I appreciate you standing by me, and wanting to help.”

“We could break his legs and run for it…” Ren cuffed her on the back of her head, a harmless pat given her Aura and natural durability, and she pouted. Lips pursed, she turned to the man and whined, “Reeeeeeen. You’re not allowed to bap me anymore! Jaune is the leader, not you~!”

“Jaune, bap Nora.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Ren.” He raised his hand and she spun, Magnhild raised warningly and lips pursed, her eyes narrowing while she hissed playfully. Laughing, he let it go and shook his head, turning to look back out on the forest. “I have to go, though. At least for today, I’m sure Pyrrha and I will manage.”

“You shouldn’t have to…”

“This is already Miss Goodwitch being kind, Nora. We shouldn’t be ungrateful.” He reminded the pouting, shorter Mistralian woman. Reminded her as much as himself, that was, as he also felt a petulant anger threatening to sprout. Smiling and quashing the aggravation, he asked, “Pyrrha, do you still want to head out there with me? Just the two of us, I mean.”

“Of course.” She nodded, positively beaming a smile like something had pleased her. She covered it up quickly, though, turning to Nora and offering, “Next weekend, if you wish it, I will feign a cold. That way, you can spend time with our illustrious leader as well.”

“But I want to go now…”

“Come on, Nora. Don’t pout like that, it’s alright.” Ren started gently, laying a hand on the small of her back to try and cheer her up. Subtly enough most would have missed it, he saw her lean back against his palm and smile slightly, but the man ignored it and instead finished, “Let’s go bake them some muffins for when they get back, hm? I believe I still have some chocolate chips.”

“Yes! I love muffins, and you guys’re gonna die for more of them later. Ren makes the best chocolate chip and walnut ever!” While she rambled, Ren gently tugged her with him, the girl dragging Magnhild along the ground behind her all the while. The remaining pair watched them go in silence, for a few minutes, until they disappeared behind the colonnades and trees of the plaza.

“So,” Pyrrha finally began, turning to him and smiling gently, “shall I be your escort, m’lord?”

Laughing, he nodded, and the Guardsman let them pass without complaint or heckling. He’d had their identification ten minutes previous, after all, and authorized the two of them. Together, they walked down the worn, most crumbled away path that circled Beacon Plateau like a winding road. Every dozen yards, a drone stood watching the forest, there to be destroyed and alert the Guardsman should the worst come.

They didn’t mind the duo, though, and the partners made their way in content silence.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“I-I thought you didn’t want to know about any of that?” Blake, wide eyed and anxious, stammered when the pair returned to their special corner to hide. Today, Yang had brought bribes in the form of a lunch bag of tuna sandwiches and a new copy of Ninjas of Love, signed by the author and already pressed against blake’s chest while she scowled at her partner. “I offered yesterday and you said-”

“That I didn’t care, because it was the past, and I wouldn’t force you to talk about it when you didn’t want to because you felt like you owed it to me.” Yang interrupted, leaning back in the beanbag she’d hauled halfway across the library to lounge in. It was more comfortable than the wooden chairs and even more than the recliners they had, after all. “Now, you know I don’t feel like you owe it to me. You understand you don’t.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because I wanted to give you the chance to decide you want me to know about it.” Yang explained plainly, adding as gently, kindly as she could, “I want to know about you, but because you want me to. Not because you think I’m entitled to it.”

“So you… Want to know what I want you to know?” Blake asked, voice colored with confusion and her face - and flicking feline ears, of course - showing it as well. When she nodded, the young Faunus sighed, pursed her lips thoughtfully and, gently, set her book down on the arm of the chair beside her. After a long moment, long enough even Yang’s patience was tested by waiting, she asked quietly, “Where do you think I should start then, Yang? Because I… I want to talk about it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She nodded gently, ears betraying her anxiety despite the rest of her being the picture of calm, constantly flicking in agitation. Or, more accurately probably considering all the context, in anxiety. “I need to, I think. Need to move past all of that, and… This is my chance to start, I guess. And stop procrastinating it.”

“Only if you want to, Blake. I’m just here as your friend, wantin’ to get to know you a little better. Help you if I can, if you need it.” Yang reassured her, half-lying in a way. She needed to get Blake on this past soon, the tension with Weiss was beginning to run higher, even if only Yang really noticed it. And knowing Weiss didn’t intend for it, she couldn’t even try and latch it down on that end. “And with stories, starting at the start tends to be the best place to be.”

“When I was younger, I worked with my mom, in the White Fang.” Yang’s brow raised and, seeing the question, Blake rushed to add. “Before it was violent, back when we did peaceful rallies, boycotts, that kind of thing.”

“Did it work? Rallies and stuff, I mean.” Yang had always been curious, still too young when the Fang turned more fully to really remember it. Only twelve or eleven, and busy with a broken father and a younger sister she had to mother. 

“If it had been working, we never would have considered turning to bombings, robberies and murder…”

“Ah.” And now Blake was sad, face pinched in regret and confusion and anger. Laughing awkwardly, Yang waved a hand and tried to lighten the air a bit. “Yeah, guess that’s, you know… Kind of obvious. Blonde moment?”

“Is that like a Mulligan?” The Faunus asked, seeing Yang’s obvious distress and taking enough humor from it to let her blunder go. 

“Yep!”

“Hmm… No, I don’t think you get to use being blonde as an excuse.” Blake smiled when Yang feigned insult, clutching a hand over her heart like she’d been stabbed and gasping theatrically. Laughing, she added, “And you don’t get to use your hair as an excuse anyway. Your hair has nothing to do with your behavior, only idiots think what’s attached to you decides how you act. Like me, people always assume I like scratching posts, if I let them see my ears.”

“You do like boxes, though…”

“Yang, that’s so racist! Honestly, you’re ridiculous.” She laughed, though, and flushed besides. They’d both seen her make that box fort when Ruby was playing one of her Weiss annoying games a few days ago, even if she’d only been reading. 

“You love me, Kitty Cat.” She grinned, Blake realizing after a moment she was doing an impression. Of a cheshire cat.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous, Yang!” Blake laughed again, the sound suppressed behind her hand to avoid annoying the librarians. Or, equally likely, any of the students in the forward parts of the library. Finally, and knowing Yang had been aiming for her to feel better, Blake reclined in her seat and sighed. “The start of me joining the Fang are simple, I guess. My Mom and Dad ran it, out of Menagerie and Mistral usually.”

“Your dad ran the Fang?”

“My dad is the Chieftain of Menagerie, leader of the Free Faunus.” She explained, rolling her eyes when Yang mouthed the word ‘princess’ with a brow raised questioningly. Catching her meaning, Blake sighed and explained the dreaded question, “If you mean to ask if I will inherit the, er, well Kingdom I suppose, then the answer to your question is yes. When my father retires or passes away, unless my mother wants it, I stand to inherit.”

“Oh my god, you’re a real princess…”

“I am not a princess, Yang...”

“Okay, but you literally are a princess, though.” Yang pointed out, grinning like a madman all the while. When Blake frowned and shook her head, Yang raised a hand and started counting. “One, your father is the king of a country-”

“Chieftain-”

“Same thing, same thing, now shush! Momma Yang is teaching you about princesses, and every little girl loves princesses.” She waved Blake off before she could argue further, and pointed a finger at Ninjas of Love, “You know, isn’t the main character there a dark haired princess from a chiefdom…?”

“Okay, fine, you win. I’m a Princess, don’t read into my choices in literature, please.” Yang laughed and Blake joined her, both knowing the game was at an end and falling into a comfortable silence afterwards. A silence that stretched on to nearly two minutes, before Blake found the right words and began speaking again. “As I said, my mom and dad ran the Fang, so growing up I was… Just sort of involved.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, Menagerie’s population even today is smaller than the Kingdoms, and most of our Guards have to stay there. To maintain the peace, deal with Grimm, pirates, that sort of stuff.” Yang had always heard about Mistral’s piracy problem, and knew the coasts of Menagerie suffered the most for it. “So, when my parents needed to travel for Fang business, their guards would too. Leaving the house almost completely empty.”

“And you without protection, and a kid to boot.” Blake nodded and Yang sighed, knowing how that song and dance could go. Lien had been hard when her mother, her real mother that was, died for the same reason. “So you had to go with them and just kind of… Picked up being part of it?”

“Little things at first, like sealing envelopes or making signs with some of the other children Fang members couldn’t leave behind.” Blake said by way of answer, shrugging simply. “We’re a close knit Kingdom, whether the other Kingdoms want to call us one or not. So no one minded having the kids around, and some people were happier for it. Lost their own, or just liked seeing kids around camp.”

Yang could imagine laughing, giggling kids would lift spirits in a camp doing the work they had been doing. Fighting bigotry, facing attack from people who didn’t want them around to be sure outside the ‘proper’ Kingdom’s defences, and dealing with all the stress and rigors of travel could each wear a man or woman down. Combined, it would be unimaginable, she was sure. Family could help through that, and she knew enough about it from experience to know how valuable the help would have been.

Family was the only reason her father had recovered, after all.

“In Atlas, I was at a protest for SDC workers, trying to get them even basic privileges like helmets at all, and a bolstered security force so they wouldn’t be dying en mass outside the perimeter around Mantle.” Blake went on, the blonde woman simply sitting and listening intently. “My mother and father were there with me, doing an interview. Wanted me and the children there since it was a small, supposedly militarily protected event.”

“Supposedly?”

“An officer in command made moves, changed out the retinue that was supposed to protect us. From veterans with Faunus in the ranks, to solely green Humans and poorly maintained, just off patrol drones. And he leaked the location of the press part of the event to… Less than savory people.” Yang could guess already where the story was going, but refused to interrupt Blake’s telling. She’d spent way too much time and effort getting her to talk to interrupt now and ruin it. “Long story short, the Humans that showed rioted and rushed the Atlesians, who froze up and broke. The droids responded with force when they took damage, the way they’re meant to, and people died…”

“Dust…”

“The interview area was rushed by a few of them, these Humans were armed. My father and his guards started to fight them, but my mother was shot in the leg.” Blake went on, now staring into nothing like she couldn’t even see Yang. Which, the blonde guessed, might be accurate for the kind of memories she was dredging up, even if her face was set and plain. “She must have seen it going south, because she told me to run.”

“Next thing I remember is back alleys in Mantle, hiding behind old and ruined dumpsters from Humans roving between the housing blocks near one of the SDC’s Mantle mines.” She continued, “A trio of them found me, and threatened so many things… And none of them were just killing me. I tried to run, and one of them got their hands in my hair, yanked me back.”

“And then?” Yang tried, she really, really did, to keep her Semblance under control. But she could see the light on the books around them from her Aura smoldering and sighed, hands balled into fists. Taking a breath, she forced herself to relax, and the light faded, and she murmured, “I’m sorry… My Semblance is kind of hard to control.”

“Like yourself in that respect, I suppose.” Blake murmured with a small, wan smile, like she was seeing something she recognized. A smile that bittered for a second, before she continued her story. “A man came and saved me from those thugs. A man named Adam Taurus, I could tell from the mining jumper he wore.”

“Mining?” She interrupted, “So… A miner, then? Not a White Fang protester?”

“No, I found out later, once we escaped, that he was a miner. Had been since he was five, and I met him when he was fourteen.” Blake sighed almost wistfully and leaned back, letting her head loll on her shoulders and rest on the recliner behind her. Her eyes closed, she finished, “I met him again a week later, outside Mantle at a Fang camp.”

“He’s the man in your notebook.” Yang asked, the Faunus woman nodding even as she grimaced at Yang seeing her drawing of him. 

“Hm. He saved my life, and beat the thugs up before we ran. Problem was, they worked as foremen and security for the mines. His mines, to be specific.” Amber eyes scrunched shut and, in a shakier voice, she added, “They branded him for it. ‘SDC’, right over his eye. Blinded him, nearly killed him from the shock and infection, too.”

“Fucking hell…” She’d heard rumors coming out of Atlas in academy, all of them had, about that sort of thing. Lynch mobs, essentially at least, maimings, mutilations and much worse. She’d always dismissed them as rumor and urban legends, but Blak had seen it… “I’m so sorry, Kitty Cat…”

“Don’t be, you’re… A different kind of Human.” She gave her a look and smiled to show she meant it, before finally finishing with a sigh. “My father took him in after I told him, introduced them. He saved my father’s life, killed someone in the process… And so the modern White Fang was eventually born.”

“Damn…”

“Damn indeed.” Blake sighed, shaking her head tiredly. “I’m mature enough to know it’s not my fault, that the change had been coming for a while, but… But would Weiss think that? Would Ruby, even?”

“There’s only one way to know, Kitty Cat.” Yang answered simply, offering her a small, warm smile when Blake only chewed her lip in anxious response. Smiling, Yang made the hard sell. “Tomorrow, we’re planning on going into Vale. We go to a private restaurant, somewhere Weiss will enjoy, and… Tell them what you are.”

“But then-”

“Weiss doesn’t need to know the full story, she’s not entitled to it.” Yang pointed out simply, quashing her fear by removing a large portion of what she was afraid of. A simple solution, and frankly a correct one. Weiss didn’t need to know every jot and tittle of Blake’s life, or anyone else’s, and they didn’t know hers either. “Friends have secrets, sometimes. Long as it doesn’t hurt anyone, it’s fine. And being friends with the princess of Menagerie could help so many people, and I know you want that.”

“...Okay.” Blake finally agreed, taking a deep breath and then sighing tiredly. Like even trying this, agreeing to what yang had suggested, was a feat worthy of titans. “Tomorrow, I’ll tell them who I am. Just… Not who Adam is.”

“You’re not him, you don’t need to tell people about what he does like you are him.” Yang smiled, genuinely happy the conversation had gone so well. She still had some processing to do, she knew, but it wouldn’t be anything that could change them being friends. Weiss and Ruby would be the same. “Now, let’s relax and… Talk about your book?”

“No!”

“But I wanna know what it’s about!”

“Then read it yourself!”

“Okay, lemme borrow your old copy.” Yang grinned when Blake was caught out, eyes wide and panicked and unsure of what to say. When Yang didn’t get an answer beyond Blake’s mouth opening and closing mutely, she laughed and stood, “Okay, I'll go get it, and we can do kinky story book club.”

Sighing, Blake surrendered and held out her new copy, murmuring, “Skim it…”

Yang was stressed out now, thanks to Blake, so the teasing could commence after chapter one.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“So how does this all… Work?” Pyrrha finally asked as they walked through the Emerald Forest, following primarily old, worn dirt tracks beaten down by drones that patrolled the area. And students such as themselves, of course, looking for a good training outing against the Grimm. 

“What do you mean exactly, Pyrrha?” His glaive clinked as it bit into the dirt and struck the tiny rocks scattered through it, a faint sound that mixed into the air and nature around him. 

In the distance, far enough they were safe and close enough he sensed them turning their attention to him, he could feel Grimm moving. It was a familiar sensation, the young warrior able to sense deer a hundred feet north in the same way, albeit those didn’t turn towards them. Futilely, he tried to suppress his presence in the Force, withdraw his emotions from the ocean around him, but it was like a man trying to paddle the blood back into his body. Useless, and the trying only wore at him while the sharks circled.

A downside to the Force’s gifts, then, albeit one he paid gladly.

“You need to meditate, and it needs to be a natural place. But we’ve been walking for a while, and you have not done so.” The question was clear there, even if she didn’t phrase it as such. Or as the accusation it very nearly was either, for that matter. 

“This path is worn down by Human feet, and the feet of their creations. Hardly natural, this environment.” He explained, honest and detailed outside the aspects of how the Force flowed. A flow that was more natural, and thus easy, in places without Human interference than those who had faced it. “Even the trees have been curated. Those in the way likely removed, to widen the path and make fighting easier, and some replanted to make it feel natural.”

“A false nature?”

“Indeed. A false nature, like a mirage or maybe a painting. Made to look real, but decidedly fake and curated.” He nodded, sighing as he sensed the Grimm distant turn to them and come at speed, sensing something or merely running together towards some place they deemed worth the effort. “Grimm.”

The word had the desired effect, Pyrrh moving a few feet away and sliding a leg back, her shield coming up in front of her at his indication of where they were coming from. To match, he traded his glaive for his saber and pulled his hood up, standing otherwise unchanged in the middle of the path, one end of his saber resting against the base of his right bicep. Two feet in front of him, two feet behind him, and plenty of space for he and his partner to move meant they were in prime condition to receive the Grimm.

They didn’t have to wait long, it turned out.

The first Beowolf surged out of the brush around the path, maw wide as it leapt bodily for him. Unbalanced as he was, his fine Force control was off, but that didn’t mean he was neutered. And so his free left hand shot forward, a wall of raw power crushing the Grimm back and snapping it around a tree beside the path. Looking like a discarded, smoldering sock puppet, it fell limp around the trip and slid to the ground while its brethren burst free with snarls and yapping growls.

They fared no better, of course.

The second Grimm he batted aside and back as he had its leading Beowolf, crushed in a wet heap against a mighty oak and left to vaporize. The third was too close for comfort, and far enough left, that he would have to turn and aim again. Which would take too long for his attacks to land with any potency or accuracy, unless he wanted to grapeshot the attack. Which would rend trees for a hundred yards in a cone of devastation and exhaust him besides.

Staff spinning, he slid a led back to take its charge, armored plate held up defensively as he rotated, instead using the Force to tug him to the side faster, anchored around a tree behind him. Like a ship tethered in a storm, he anchored himself to take the Grimm head on, saber ready to hiss to life when it closed fully with him and disembowel it.

Pyrrha met it instead, leaping between them and catching it in the side of its neck and her spear through its heart. Limp, it fell to the side, collapsing in a rolling heap behind her before the last leapt at her side. She caught its claw on her shield, but it swept into her faster than even she could react, other arm grabbing her armored leg as it forced her down. Hissing angrily at her proximity, he leapt in with his lightsaber crackling to life. 

It saw him coming and reared up, snarling ferally as Pyrrha stabbed futilely at its armored, thick hide with her spear, the woman too pressed to reach further down the handle and shorten it. His red blade hissed and crackled as it cut through the back of its throat and, further, out the back of its skull. It whimpered weakly for a moment, the sound nearly lost in the hissing and popping of meat and bone, and he wrenched the weapon to the side to pull it off her. Pyrrha aided him, rising on one knee and sweeping the treeline with her rifle with herself between him and it. Like she was his guarding it.

Which, technically speaking, she actually was right now.

“Do you sense any more of them, Jaune?” She asked, rifle ready to snap where he directed he was certain. 

“No, I don’t.” He’d only sensed four, and wasn’t worried about any more. Extinguishing his saber, he thought for a moment and mused to himself, feeling the tempest of the Force fade away. “Offensively, I’m much stronger…”

“I noticed that.” The woman laughed, gesturing at the shattered Grimm and remarking, “A small pack, but you basically obliterated them all. Impressive. I thought you were weakened?”

“I have raw power, but no control for it. No direction, or ability to… Mitigate damage.” He gestured around the broken Grimm, at that bushes whose limbs had been shattered from the blast that hadn’t hit the monsters, and at the splintered bark where they’d been hurled. “Think of a bomb, but one with no way of deploying it accurately. That is my power right now. Are you okay?”

“I am, yes.” She nodded and offered him a small smile, spinning her spear in her hand like a baton. The smile fell swiftly, though, and she sighed, shaking her head and bringing the base of her spear down on the ground with a metallic twang. “That was sloppy of me… I allowed myself to be pinned. It could have killed me.”

“Your Aura was full, and you intervened to protect me. Because you know how out of balance my ability has me, and that my Aura sometimes fails.” A manipulation of the facts, to be sure, but one that seemed to work. She relaxed slightly and, though he could tell she was angry, she eased and nodded. “Now, we can resolve this-”

“Not here we can’t. Too unnatural, as you said.” She cut him off, walking past the decaying Grimm and calling back over her shoulders, “This way is what looks like raw forest. Let’s find you a proper place, and resolve this mess before either of us is hurt any further than egos and grazing shots.”

“Alright then…” Spinning his staff, he flicked it over his shoulder and into its sheath and followed the woman through the greenery.

With her leading and pathfinding for them, they walked in mostly silence for nearly an hour. Time spent ducking under tree limbs, vaulting fallen trunks, and at one point fording a shallow river that cut through rocks and winding tree roots. On the other side, they turned west and began to follow it, at times sticking to the mostly navigable trees and roots, and at times walking through the water itself. 

Eventually, they found a small clearing, with a depression in the ground filled with crystal clear water only an inch deep at the deepest outside of the center of the depression. At the center was a rock the size of a man, or probably larger considering the way it was buried, indented into the ground like it had struck at high speed. Cataclysmic speed, even, considering the depression it had left, the wide creek flowing into it from one end and out of it the way they’d come.

“It’s beautiful…” Pyrrha murmured quietly, shaking her head beside him. “Like-Like something out of a fantasy movie. I’m half surprised there’s no sword waiting for a knight in shining armor to pull it free and become king of Vale.”

“It’s perfect!” Even from here, several yards away, he could feel the stone reverberating into the Force. Like an echo of something ancient, powerful, and attuned in a way he could only have wished for yesterday. “Pyrrha, can you keep watch? Walk the perimeter?”

“Of course.” She nodded, calling as he rushed off, “I hope this makes you feel better!”

Stooping low as he walked, his hand dipped into the water, scooping up a handful of the loose pebbles that lined the dirt of the bed wherever reeds hadn’t sprouted. With them in hand, he used the Force to leap up onto the stone like a man doing nothing more than taking a step. On top, the rock was smooth and flat, and reeked of the Force. 

Just like the Sith Temple had…

“I can deal with it later.” He assured himself, sitting on the stone and crossing his legs. It didn’t take any longer to feel the Force thrum around him than it did to close his eyes and open himself to it. Still, it took some time to center himself, and find the eye of the hurricane he always occupied, treading water in the darkest part of the storm to stay afloat.

To stay powerful.

Minutes rapidly compounded into the first hour as he felt tension evaporate from inside and across him, and his senses began to expand. The first thing alive he felt was Pyrrha, pacing the outside of the pond and waiting patiently for him. Then the trees, birds, insects and, distantly, the Grimm that to his eyes seemed to give the entire area a wide berth. As though avoiding something there, which should have been preposterous. 

Yet they seemed to be doing just that, the closest groups equidistant from where he sat. 

Another matter for later, he decided quietly, raising his hand with the stones in it and spreading his palm. Focusing, he reached out to touch them with the Force under will, and slowly they began to spin, first in a slow and simple circle and then in complex shapes and patterns. He alternated them rapidly, tuning his fine control of them while he sat and thought. Thought of destiny and falling autumn leaves, images that the Force coalesced around in front of him, almost enough to be material. 

A simple red leaf, floating astride the water in the storm in front of him and spreading impossible stillness acros tempestuous waters, his mind settled on. 

Instinctively, he reached for it, hand stretching out in front of himself as though to touch the heat there. Finally, his fingers brushed it and he felt the air robbed from his chest, along with a sharp tugging sensation and then pain like fire. Like he’d been stabbed, or impaled even. He couldn’t breathe, and felt a hand at his brow, holding him so he wouldn’t fall. 

Instinctively again, he pushed against the hand, like he was trying to swim against the current. Now words came, accompanying the pain he’d felt so sharply in his heart. 

“Do you believe in destiny?”

“...Yes.”

Simple words, echoing around him eerily, but discernible in a way they hadn’t been before. A moment passed and he heard the thwack of strings, or bones maybe, snapping to and felt the piercing pain in his chest. Once more, he felt the hand on his head, and once more he pushed against it. Fighting for more. More words, images maybe, he didn’t even know himself what he hoped for. It was war fought because his instincts, or the Force, told him he should.

“Gah!” He recoiled like he’d been burned, the stones rocketing away from him in all directions like bullets loosed while he sucked in air and his heart raced. 

“Jaune!?” He heard Pyrrha cry, turning to watch her sprinting towards him with a mask of worry. Sweating, he stood and dropped down in front of her, his legs giving out and the woman casting aside spear and shield to catch and brace him up. Faces close enough their noses could have touched, she demanded, “What happened? What’s wrong, Jaune? Are you hurt?”

“N-No… I’m okay.” He assured her, giving her a look and swallowing anxiously. “Pyr, I have a request…”

“A request?”

“Yes.” He nodded, “Ask me… Ask me if I believe in destiny.”

“I don’t understand, why is that-”

“Trust me!” He snapped, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. Wide eyed, she blinked at him in confusion, and he took a breath. “Please, Pyr, trust me. I know it’s a weird request, but please. Ask me the question, I beg of you.”

“I don’t understand, but… Alright.” She nodded, the man releasing her and leaning back against the stone while she took a breath. Finally, she said the words, and they filled him with dread. “Do you believe in destiny?”

“Gods… Brothers, gods, Dust, Force…” He blinked as the realization set in and her eyes searched his face, filled with panic on both ends. “I heard your voice…”

“My voice…”

“I had a vision.” Her eyes narrowed in confusion, and he pushed off the rock, knowing what had to be done now. With a finger, he gestured at the rock and told her, “I had a vision through the Force. Words, spoken by you and someone else I do not know. Then I felt like… Like I was dying.”

“Through… Through your Semblance?” Her face screwed in confusion and, lost, she asked gently. “Jaune, I don’t understand… Please, explain what you mean. You heard my… My voice?”

And so he did explain, in full detail and leaving nothing out this time, even as it delved into secrets meant to be kept. For he’d heard her voice, and it was connected to death for someone. Who it was, ranging from Jaune himself, to Pyrrha, to someone else entirely, he didn’t know. Only that Pyrrha was involved and he had to save her, if he could. She was his teammate, and that made them friends, bad at that whole ordeal or not, so he wanted them safe and sound.

And a Sith would burn worlds to get what he wanted.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Zen Aku Spirit of the Wolf :

She’s… Alright at it, I guess. She does react too much to things, though, and that makes it a bit obvious at times. Though I would point out that, irl, people that don’t WANT to believe a thing about someone will ignore obvious tells. A parent ignoring sociopathic or psychopathic tendencies, for instance.

Edgy Bro :

Not a terrible idea, really, though the main arc is kind of already going, and the SECONDARY arc launches in full next chapter, which itself will set up the primary arcs further progression…

So yeah. A good idea, but one I largely can’t implement.

Knightwolf :

Yeah, I just went back and rewatched their classroom conversation and… Did more of the thing, really. It’s just me ripping how they act there and pasting in other contexts. 

Red Demon Eye :

Yeah, thus my hints about the future here, while he is unbalanced and the Force is kind of pushing him around. He feels things, foreboding and the like, in the same way Luke and Anakin (for two examples) did. Or Yoda. 

Zammy : 

In a way, there already is a second Human-Faunus war, with the Fall of Beacon and the attack on Haven.

MH4Life :

Sun was never intended as the romantic pairing, even if HE wanted to be. Blake was nice to him, but even as far back as the Yellow Trailer, Yang was getting called out in relation to Blake. ‘Yellow beauty and Black the Beast’. As a writer I saw these pieces at every stage of their deployment, and am overjoyed that the first person to like Blake isn’t who she ends up with. It’s more realistic.

I appreciate the compliments, but I will not accept them when they are based on a misrepresentation of the show. If you want me to break down how well built the ship was, join my server and we can talk, or PM me here and we can. I won’t text wall here on it, though.

As to your second question, maybe and maybe not. I won’t spoil in either direction.

The 2 AM Guest :

The big tell here is that Cordovin doesn’t TRY to check Blake out. At all. They have a short-range CCT there, hence the base, that lets them relay messages to Mistral and Atlas. They COULD have called Mistral and been told ‘No, yeah, that’s Blake Belladonna, Team RWBY, and her father is here helping us beef up anti-Fang security’. Checking out Yang would have even netted Ironwood’s getting her that arm, and so on.

They didn’t, though. They just saw Faunus and refused entry outright.

I am glad to have expounded your appreciation of the subplot though! :D

The Anti-Bee (Guest) :

One, ships aren’t typically determined when I start a story, so as of now it IS NOT a BMBLB story. Might beecome one, though. 

Two, I wouldn’t warn people anyway. It’s my story, and the ship is well built. If someone is immature enough to stamp their feet over a pairing they don’t like… Oh well? I won’t cater to that, though. And if someone is against the Bees for more… Bigoted reasons, or for being a Monty Truther for instance, I certainly won’t bee catering to them.

Three, Their relationship is me copy pasting what they did in the show, AND is a subplot like in the show. So I wouldn’t warn of it anyways. Their inclusion is just to explain background pieces coming up in the main plot.


	13. Explanations, Revelations

XxX----XxX----XxX

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XxX----XxX----XxX

“When I was younger, all I wanted was to be a hero like in the old stories I used to fall asleep to as a kid. A Huntsman, specifically, though. Because… Well, Arcs are Hunters. There’s always a couple of us in a generation.” He finished, an hour and a half gone by and the duo sitting at the edge of the little pond they’d found, backs resting against the trunk of a great, old oak whose roots wound through the water beside them. 

He couldn’t see her like this of course, with the trunk between them and both of them facing away from each other, but then again he didn’t need to see her to sense her. “I just… You know, wanted to protect people.”

“I understand the desire to protect people. It is… Quite a calling, and not something easily shaken.” She nodded, and through his renewed, controlled sense of the Force, he could sense her honesty. Though part of that sensation was less his own connection, and this place they had found. A pang of sadness echoed out of her, like a drop in the calm sea warning of a storm, and she went on solemnly, “Many pay a price to pursue this calling. And you have paid dearly, it would seem.”

“I suppose…”

“There is no supposition to have here, Jaune.” She contested with an odd amount of heat, her hand reaching out to dab fingers through the cool water idly. A distraction, he guessed, from what was going on. “Many of us join with this field of life with the expectation that one day down the line, our lives may be risked. Or asked of us. You understand this, I am sure.”

“I do, yeah.” His father had beaten it into his head, as had Instructor months and years prior. He’d heard more than a few stories from both that cemented the idea in his mind as surely as breathing was. “You don’t train under who I did to be what I am and not know what might come.”

“A Huntsman or a…” He heard her shuffle unsurely and then, echoing the sentiment, she sighed and settled on, “A Huntsman or a warrior of the Force? I do not know the proper term, I fear.”

“Force Warrior.” He supplied simply, remembering the lessons his two teachers had imparted to him and moving on, “And to answer your question, both. Neither Instructor or my father are ones to let someone study this kind of thing and not know the risks. And both being a Warrior as I am and a Huntsman means seeing the worst, most dangerous rogues and monsters to blight this world.”

“Such is true enough.” She answered, the duo falling into silence for a short time while the young woman simply… Processed what he’d told her so far. He could sense the turmoil in her, though all he could discern when he closed his eyes and tried was confusion and anxiety, not anger or distrust. Finally she spoke, sounding distant and distracted, “Being a Hunter is a dangerous endeavour at the best of times, sadly enough. Such is our calling and, dare I say, destiny as well.”

“Destiny…” The vision echoed in his ears at her mention of the word and his grip tightened on his saber beside him until his knuckles protested. 

“I asked about that in your, er… Vision, did I not?” He grunted an affirmation and he heard her shift uncomfortably and, in a low and anxious voice, she said, “I do believe in destiny, I think.”

“You do?” She didn’t strike him as the type, really. “Why?”

“Destiny has a powerful place in the traditions of Mistral, Jaune. Ancient and modern both. Warriors in tales are spoken of with grand fates and destinies inscribed into the very stars. And I…” She chuckled, the sound rolling into a laugh before she cut it off and sighed. “I just realized that you did not spend time in Mistral, as you claimed, and that explains much.”

“Because if I had, then I would know why you would believe in and value things like destiny.” He nodded, understanding her point easily enough. Had he lived there like his lying said, then this all would be a bit clearer to him. “Why would you ask someone if they believed in destiny, though?”

“I’m afraid I do not know.”

“You don’t even have an idea?”

“No, I’m sorry, but I can’t think of any good reason I would ask someone else something like that.” The note of apology was a strong one in the woman’s words, and he sighed in response, unable to actually get angry at her when she sounded so broken up about the issue as it was. “Were they Mistralian, I would already know the answer. And were they not, it would be inappropriate to ask.”

“Inappropriate? The vision ended with someone’s death...” He chuckled darkly at the words and plucked a stone from the water, using the Force to set it spinning around the tree. An exercise in control and therapy he’d learned in Ansel, interestingly enough, that helped him relax and think. “What if… What if you thought they were Mistralian, but later learned they might not be?”

“I suppose I would be tempted to ask then.” She answered, “Why?”

“Who do you know of that you thought went to Mistral for years and didn’t?” He asked gently, afraid himself of the implications there. 

“What are you suggesting?”

“What do you think?” The woman was on her feet in a moment, standing in the water and glaring down on him with more heat and fire than she’d ever shown him before. Her normally gentle face a warped scowl, now, he met her look with a flat one of his own and simply said, “I’m asking the obvious questions, Pyr. That’s all.”

“Jaune, you can’t seriously believe you could be involved with my death.”

“To be fair, I don't actually know if it is your death.” He pointed out with a small grimace. Her eyes narrowed in a question and he explained, “I heard your question, and then felt the wound and death of a person. I don’t know if you died, or if I am there and I do, or if you ask that and kill someone, or any other number of things.”

“I would not kill you, or allow you to be killed while I lived, even if the situation were dire and doomed. I would dive before a dragon for you, or Nora, or team RWBY or Velvet.” He didn’t doubt she would, her certainty and acceptance ebbed like a rip tide in the Force. Tugging at his feet and threatening to sweep them out from under him. “Do not pander to me out of kindness, Jaune. Tell me what you truly think is happening in your vision.”

“...You’re dying. Stabbed, shot maybe, but you’re dying in the vision. And I don’t know why.” Pyrrha wasn’t the type to execute someone or mock them, and those were the only other two options he could see. “I’m sorry.”

“I see…” The woman’s face paled and her eyes closed, before she took a deep breath and met his own again. Again there was a fire there, though not one directed at him thankfully, and her voice was softer as she asked, “What can we do about it, then? I would prefer not to die, after all. Not if it can be averted.”

“We can be wary, and we can grow powerful. ‘Through strength my chains are broken’, as Instructor would say.” He repeated, standing and rolling his shoulders as he took in a deep and grounding breath. “I broke my chains once, I can do it again.”

“What does that saying mean?”

“Hm?” He blinked and then chuckled in spite of himself and the situation, calling the rock to him and then kneeling to return it to where he’d found it. “It is the Sith Code of old, of the Sith Empire. Instructor taught me about them, the source of Revanism as I practice it and as he taught it. I… Suppose you will need to know about them and the Codes now, too, with everything going on.”

“Only if you want.” She assured him, stepping away and turning to look out at the serene beauty they’d found instead of at him. More to relax and try to absorb everything than out of anger than him, he hoped. “I won’t press you for information you do not wish shared, and I won’t press for more revelations either. I do believe my world thoroughly rocked as it is.”

“Yeah, I can sympathize with that at least.” He’d gone through precisely the same years ago, after all. It had taken days for him to accept the information, as impossible as it was, and Instructor had been patient through that time. 

A rare instance of empathy and gentleness from the machine, that had been.

“You may need to know these things, though. To understand me and what I, or rather we, will need to do to prevent my vision coming to path.” He went on, “Visions like these require you to be intelligent and educated to try and prevent them. Else you can simply end up creating the circumstances that give rise to your fall.”

“When one seeks to evade destiny they end up fleeing down the road to meet it, be the path straight as a blade’s edge or twisted as a snake’s flight.” Pyrrha nodded, adding after a moment, “An old Mistralian adage, spoken by a weaver of fate in legends older than even the Academies are.”

“Sounds familiar…” Very much so, in fact. Enough so that he asked, more curious and wanting something other than literally prophetic death sentences to talk about, he leaned against the oak and asked, “What was the story, exactly?”

“Hm?”

“About the weaver of fate.” He clarified, “What was the story?”

“The story has many versions, and so I will simply reiterate the most generic of them. If that is alright? Else we’d have thirty of them to get through.” He nodded, not wanting nearly that much of a distraction right now, and she sighed. “Well then… There once was a dark raven with a blade of red, given prophecy by the king of the dead. And on a path of avoidance tread, he only found his friends all dead. But of his goals noble to the last, he accomplished each, of his imperial task.”

“That doesn’t make any sense though…”

“It’s a rhyme to the gist of the story, nothing more. The warrior’s name is Raven and he wielded a blade of red in the service of his empire, trying to protect it.” She grimaced at that, though, and finished, “The stories all end the same. Raven saves his empire, but it destroys him and those he loves.”

“Raven and a blade of red…” It sounded similar to stories he’d briefly skimmed in his studies at the Temple, but so much had been rushed through. Revan fought for his empire too, and with a blade of red, and many of his allies died in the effort. But that wasn’t a lot of detail, and could easily all be coincidence. “It must be…”

“Jaune?”

“Nothing, Pyr.” He laughed it all off, both his suspicions and her concerned expression. “We need to focus on you, though. You and the pursuit of means to protect you.”

“Us, you mean. You and I, and our team, in totality.” She corrected him, “I doubt that whatever could endanger me would endanger only me, after all.”

“You’re right, but for now, we’ll focus on the two of us in isolation. Once we’re stronger, we can start working on building up Ren and Nora.” And then maybe team RWBY, too, if they needed to. A decision for later, of course, but something he’d need to keep in mind. “For now, I don’t want them to know about all of this, though.”

“Why? Surely they deserve to know.”

“I want to meditate on the vision further, try and glean more knowledge. Figure out the specifics of what is happening, maybe, or who’s involved outside our team.” Not to mention he didn’t want to frighten them just yet, they were already strong enough as it was. If Pyrrha and he were the targets it only made sense they receive the most hardening, though he knew Pyrrha would never agree to it. “And besides I… Don’t want people to know about the Temple, or the Force, if it can be helped.”

“Keeping an ace hidden in its hole?” There was an undercurrent of suspicion and sympathy there he tried not to read into. 

“No, trying to keep dangerous information from being too spread around.” He answered earnestly, more so than even he expected he would have. Or should have, really. Seeing her confusion plain as day on her face, he elaborated with a wave of his hand towards the rock, like he was gesturing to the issue in full, “People will want the power I have. It’s not a Semblance, after all, so they’ll all want it for their own ends. If someone were to take Nora or Ren and threaten them, I would be tempted to give over the information. Information that isn’t mine to give.”

“It’s your faith’s, not yours.” He nodded at the question and she grimaced. “But won’t that happen regardless of whether they know?”

“Maybe, but if they know, and my enemy knows my team knows, what do you think they’d do to get it if kidnapping is on the market?” He raised a brow, but she didn’t answer, pursing her lips and keeping her peace. He answered for her, to send home his point in full, “A Sith would see which cared more for the other, and torture them to break the first.”

“I…” She blinked, “Would normal people do so, though? I would think not.”

“A Sith is taught to always expect what the worst Sith would do, and torture is part of our very training. To harden us to pain, and let us use it and fight through it.” He’d experienced plenty of both the torture and its explanation to understand the reasons for that. Seeing her revulsion, he headed it off, “It’s barbaric, I know. But in a situation of life or limb, a Sith can choose life and cut away the limb for strength. Such is the Dark Side’s power.”

“It is barbaric, you have that right…”

“No Sith would argue otherwise.” Not really, at least. Rather, the crueller, Darker ones would simply say it was a point of pride. To cull the weak who would foolishly aspire to join their ranks. “I’m a Revanite because of that distinction. That bararity is useful, but shouldn’t be what makes up the core of one’s identity.”

“So for you, it is as a last resort?”

“Precisely.” He nodded, gesturing away and east, towards where he felt Beacon ought to be, “If Beacon, or Vale let’s say, were under threat I would use it. Get myself shot, or let myself get burned, and then use that as a Force focusing aspect. A last resort, as you said, to ensure victory where loss would be unbearable.”

“I see.” And he could tell from the look in her eye she did, too. “And you fear that this kind of power would tempt people to do evil things to you and yours?”

“The ancient Sith Empire spanned the stars once upon a time. And it was rife with precisely that.” She looked confused and he grimaced, realizing his mistake a moment too late and sighing. Pinching the bridge of his nose against frustration, he apologized, “Sorry. Ignore that first bit. What I meant to say was that Sith have a history of exactly that temptation destroying things. Corrupting people around them.”

“Are you worried that… We could be corrupted?” He nodded and saw the hurt in her eyes, and the way her shoulders bunched up. 

“Pyr, please don’t get angry…”

“I would think you’d trust us more than that by now.” She argued, turning away but not leaving him behind. She wouldn’t leave him alone out here, alone with the Grimm, he knew. She was too kind for that. “We should return to Beacon, Jaune.”

“It’s a drug.” He said instead of agreeing, the woman’s head cocking to the side to listen. She wouldn’t look at him, and she wouldn’t let his mistrust go easily, but he could hope for her understanding at least. “The Dark Side is intoxicating and alluring, like a powerful narcotic. I would throw myself on a sword if you said it wouldn’t kill me. But if you were drugged up, injected with powerful psychotics?”

“I wouldn’t be able to reason properly…” She murmured, “I’d be out of my right mind.”

“Precisely. And people exposed to an easy path to power can have the same thing happen to them. Good people in Sith history have gone mad for the Dark Side.” Or rather, in galactic history, as little as he knew of that. He’d only ever read the accounts Instructor deemed needed to make the point, after all. “It’s not mistrust. It’s me wanting to protect you all from things that you don’t deserve to have to deal with.”

“I see…” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, then, shaking her head. “We should return to Beacon now regardless. Before it gets later, or Nora attacks the Guard to get out and check on us. Likely with Ren as her weapon, judging from the types of shows she likes to watch on her Scroll...”

He barked a laugh at the mental image of Nora swinging Ren around like a baton, but nodded. “Lead the way then, bodyguard.”

“You never said what we would be doing about my…” She grunted and pursed her lips, searching for the right word, and then offered weakly, “Problem.”

“Like I said. We train, and look for anything, anything at all, that can make us more powerful.” Through that power, they could break any chains, or so the Sith taught. And even Instructor had seemed to agree with that. “In other words, training and meditation whenever and wherever possible.”

“Whenever possible you say?” He nodded simply and she smiled widely enough he almost felt afraid. Stepping past him, she only said, “You shall come to regret that in time, Jaune. You will find I love training, and the regimen I shall put us on will be a Mistralian champions.”

“Okay?” He wasn’t scared of training, of course. 

What could possibly be so bad about Pyrrha’s training regimen compared to Instructor’s?

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Again, lift the weight with your mind and solve the problem.” Pyrrha ordered, pacing around the rooftop they’d appropriated for their private training sessions. Behind him, where he couldn’t see, a twenty pound weight lay while in front of him sat a sheet full of math problems. “Simple multiplication and up and down weight lifting should train up your ability to multitask. Hopefully.”

“You sound so certain until you add ‘hopefully’ and ‘maybe’, you know, Pyr.” He rolled his eyes and then closed them for a moment, focusing first on lifting the weight. It was hard to explain how he knew when it moved without seeing or hearing it do so, it was more a knowledge it had, and so he opened his eyes and turned at least part of his attention on the sheet of paper. “Nine multiplied by nine is eighty-”

Behind him, the weight clanged loudly as it hit the ground, Pyrrha’s Semblance catching it before it could roll and returning it to place while he groaned. 

“Don’t fret, Jaune, you… You almost completed the first problem! Yay!” The petulant glare he gave her had her smiling and laughing awkwardly for a moment before she coughed into her first and chewed on a lip while she thought. “You are making progress, though. In all truth and seriousness, I mean. When we started this morning, you would look to the sheet and the weight would fall instantly.”

“And now, I can nearly complete one fourth grade mathematics problem.” Her smile turned apologetic and he waved her off and stood, stretching a back that had started to get stiff from sitting on the ground. “It’s progress, I’m just being petulant because it’s not working. Instructor said I did that a lot, but it was part of my learning process, so he didn’t mind.”

“Nor do I.” She assured him gently, smoothing her uniform skirt and sitting beside him on the cool concrete of the rooftop. “Again, you have improved markedly in so little time. You should feel good about it.”

“Yeah, I know… It’s progress, even if it’s not a lot.” And even if he didn’t think he was making nearly enough to be praiseworthy, Pyrrha was far too kind and supportive not to praise him. “Sun’s been up for a while, though. We’re probably getting close to breakfast time now, and people will want to head out into Vale soon.”

“They will, yes.”

“You still want to go out, or do you want to stay and train?” He asked, the woman making a face at the question. “Ask me, I would say we should stay and train. We’re on a time table now, before someone dies.”

“Isn’t that always how our lives are, though?” She asked purely rhetorically, and giving him a smile that assured him of as much. “No, though. I think we should go out, with everyone.”

“But Pyrrha-”

“If I am to die as destiny has decided, then I would die happier for knowing and being with those I care for than I would if I spent all my time fearing it.” She cut him off, oddly sharp and harsh for someone normally so gentle. Yet again, that fire he’d seen the day before, sparking to life and roaring for a moment before she pursed her lips and seemed to reel herself back under control. “This is my fate, Jaune. Let it be my own choice in how I deal with this, I beg of you.”

“I… If that’s your choice, then alright. I won’t fight you on it.” He didn’t like it, of course, but here wasn’t much of anything he could actually do about it. Even if he wanted to force the issue, which he of course didn’t, he still couldn’t. She was too strong for him to even have a chance at doing that. “We should get going then, right?”

“Yes, please.” She nodded, standing and offering him a hand up. He took it and she tugged him up, the blonde turning and calling the weight to his hand with the Force. She took it from him and smiled, “I’ll drop this by the weight room after I tidy up out here and join you all for breakfast shortly. You go on ahead, though.”

“I…” He hesitated, sensing something off for a moment, but then shrugged and gave her a nod. “I’ll see you in a bit, though. Want me to grab anything from the bar for you?”

“I would quite enjoy a breakfast wrap or three, if you don’t mind. Oh! And maybe an egg sandwich?” He nodded and she smiled, kneeling to start gathering up the worksheets and pencils she’d brought for them. Or rather, that she’d brought for him, since they’d focused on him this morning. He watched her for a moment and she gave him a look and a smile, shooing him away, “Go on, I’ll be along shortly. If you dally, I won’t have my sandwich there for you to get.”

“Right.” The odd sensation was there, still, but he ignored it and took his leave. 

At the bottom of the steps, though, a wave of fear and anxiety hit him as powerfully as a wave crashing into his head ahead of a hurricane. The suddenness struck him and stole his breath, the blonde grunting and leaning a hand on the wall while he processed the surprise of it, and then it was under control. Turning, he looked back the way he’d come and grimaced, wondering if he should go and see her.

“She wanted the privacy.” He decided eventually, opting to leave and respect her want to be alone. 

It was better he focus on training, frankly, to protect her. Drawing a pen out of his breast pocket, he pitched it into the air in front of him and focused on holding it in the air as he walked. Multitasking was his weakness, after all, and even if he’d never be able to have his Aura up and use the Force at will, he might be able to use small Force maneuvers and not open himself up.

Time would tell.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Look, it’s a karaoke bar, right? That means private rooms, so no one else sees you. And a door that I can stand in front of, so Weiss can’t run away in a fit.” Which was very much a possibility, really, depending on whether she felt entrapped with this or not. “It’s a quiet place, though. Nice and homy. This should work for you to, you know, let it all out.”

“I’m not sure about all this…”

“The place?”

“No, the place is perfect for this, Yang, I just… That’s not the problem. This place isn’t the problem.” And after, they planned to go to a cafe for lunch with team Juniper. One that served Hunter sized portions, no less, though it came with the pricetag to match that. “It’s… I’m just scared, I guess. That’s all.”

“Let’s just get settled in, then. The others should start trickling in here in a little while.” Yang pushed, knowing there was nothing she could do for Blake’s nervousness except power through it. 

“Yeah, let’s.” Grabbing her hand, the blonde tugged her inside and towards the room they’d booked, only stopping to show the attendant at the front her ID.

Inside, it was a typical Mistralian style karaoke bar, with a little reception area to check in if you’d reserved a room or buy one if it was open. Past the little window was a hallway which was lined with thick, heavy doors, with a stairwell at the end that led up to another floor’s worth of them. And at the opposite end of the area, a small bar area, though one that didn’t serve alcohol. It was meant more for lounging and eating than drinking regardless, and as they moved down the hall they saw a sparse population occupying the area already. A dozen people, maybe, counting the three waiters meandering around the low seating and black tables.

“This is a surprisingly nice pick, Yang.” She murmured as the blonde reached a door, checked the little card she’d been given and then pulled it open for her.

“I picked carefully. Somewhere quiet, somewhere private, somewhere Weiss and you both would like since she enjoys singing and you enjoy quiet places.” Yang beamed at her thoughtfulness and waved her into the room, and the Faunus returned with a nervous smile of her own as she stepped inside.

“Well, you did well.” She complimented, sitting down on the soft leather couch and scooting around until her shoulder leaned against the speaker system to either side of the television that would display the lyrics for them to sing. If they got to do any singing, that was, once things got going. “All goes well, I would… I would rather enjoy coming back here. Alone or not, I mean.”

“Yeah, I-” She paused and turned as a waiter poked his head in, mouth open to ask their orders, and instead said, “I’d love a grape soda and some cinnamon cakes. Blake? Peppermint tea and a tuna sandwich like you usually try?”

“I…” She blinked, and then nodded dumbly, “Yes, that sounds wonderful. Only, not a tuna sandwich. The smell, such a small room. Perhaps a… A breakfast sandwich, if it is not too late?”

“I’ll get it out inside half an hour, the sandwich will take a bit to fry the egg.” The two women nodded and he was gone, flashing away to deliver the order for them.

“So…” Yang started after a couple minutes of silence, taking a seat beside the door and clicking her tongue anxiously. “How do you wanna… Go about this? I mean, I know Weiss will probably be upset, but Ruby is probably going to just wanna know if you like head scritches.”

“Yang, that’s racist…”

“Shut up, she’s a dork.” The woman snorted and smiled at the familiar in-joke and, in spite of herself, Blake returned it. “So, you have a plan for Weiss?”

“Part of me just wants to be waiting with my ears out when she gets here.” That would at least get her to notice, if nothing else. Only… “I don’t know if that is a good idea, though. What’s to stop her storming out right away?”

“She’s a reasonable, grown ass woman.” Yang argued simply, and if Blake were honest and could ignore her anxiety over the whole situation, she would agree with her. Weiss was far more reasonable than any Schnee they’d ever encountered or seen in the public eye. “I say go for it. Let the kitties out, and keep ‘em out. That ribbon should be for your weapon only.”

“But what if-”

“You saw what Jaune did when Cardin was harassing someone he didn’t even know. What do you think he would do if someone hurt you for it? And what would I do, for that matter?” Yang cut her off, smiling triumphantly when Blake could only nod in response. Leaning back she flicked her head, and her hair with it, in victory and went on, “It would sell being open and honest with her, and a Schnee, from what I understand, would understand you being nervous around her.”

“One could hope….”

“Gimme get.” She ordered simply, holding out her hand. Blake looked to it and then to her and the woman’s brows rose, her hand repeating a demand for the ribbon. After a tense moment and a lot of racing thoughts, Blake sighed and reached up, tugging it off and letting her ears flick and stretch. Yang took it from her and slipped it into a pocket with a smile, “Good girl.”

“Yang, that’s-”

“Say racist and I will thump you on the nose, and that will be racist.” Yang threatened, the Faunus grimacing and nodding understandingly. The blonde’s Scroll chimed then and Yang flicked it open, “Weiss and Ruby are here. Coming up now, they just wanted our room number. Are you ready?”

“No, but we’re doing it anyways.” She answered, pulling her legs up and holding them against her chest anxiously. Ears flicking, she asked, “Should we… Should we warn them, or something?”

“They already know something is up. I told ‘em to expect a… Chat.” That was a way to phrase it, yeah. “Just take a breath, okay? Got like three- Oh, Weiss!” She stood suddenly as the door swung open, blocking the view between it and the frightened Faunus. “Now listen, okay, you aren’t allowed to get angry. Okay?”

“Why would I get angry, Yang?”

“Because… Reasons, okay? Promise you’ll keep it cool, though. Sit down, and we all talk. Okay?” Yang demanded, a hand shooting out to presumably catch the woman when she tried to sidestep her. In a firm tone, like it had been wrought out of iron, she finished simply, “This is serious, Weiss. Like, deadly serious.”

“...Jesus, what did you idiots blow up this time? I can’t afford to fix another crater, if that’s what-”

“It isn’t.” Yang snapped, the seriousness finally seeming to sink in. She heard two pairs of feet shuffle on the carpeted floor and assumed Weiss had nodded, because Yang let her go and sighed. “Okay. Then sit.”

“Fine, Gods, you’d think that someone had… Died…” Weiss trailed off, sitting down and staring at Blake for a long moment. Or rather, staring at the space above her head, where her ears pressed down anxiously like they were trying to hide. She swallowed and shakily unscrewed the top to a bottle of water Ruby produced from her little backpack before turning to Yang and murmuring weakly, “Well. I see why you feared I would be angry, at the very least, Yang. And I am.”

“Weiss, I-”

“Not at you specifically, Blake, or not right now at the least.” Hard blue eyes turned on Yang, sitting across from her with a face that reeked of apathy, and Weiss scowled. “You couldn’t have warned me about this? You thought an ambush was the best idea?”

“Didn’t consider if it was, really. I picked what would make Blake the most comfortable, and you can be pissy at me for it if you like. Hell, slap me if you want.” She shrugged at the affronted expression Weiss gave her and sighed, grimacing and turning to look at the door. “Look, this is a thing for everyone. Okay? So let’s just deal with this. I’ll apologize later.”

“Fine.” Weiss agreed, turning a look on Blake and pursing her lips. Her hands drummed on the bottle held between her knees idly, sat prim and proper as always, while she thought. “Why hide it?”

“I’m a Faunus with features I can hide.” She answered simply, “You’d be surprised how many of us do it to escape the eyes of people we fear.”

“And you feared me?”

“When we first met? Yes. You were just a Schnee, Weiss, I didn’t know you. And now that I do, I… Well, here we are.” She gestured weakly at the room, and paused to offer anxious little Ruby a small smile of reassurance. “Now I’m telling you. A-And Yang planned a whole day of stuff you would enjoy doing, to make it easier.”

“So you were… Scared of me, because of my last name?” Unsure of what to say, Blake simply nodded and the woman glared hotter than she ever had before. “So to be straight in all this, you are letting me know you were afraid of me judging you for what you are, because you judged me for what I am?”

“Yes… And that was wrong to-”

“You bet your ass, Belladonna. Wait...” She blinked once, then twice as her mind put pieces together faster than Blake had hoped and then she pointed a finger at her. “You’re one of those Belladonnas, aren’t you? The founders of the White Fang?”

“...Yes.” She nodded, “And I was a member until recently.”

“Blake, what the fuck happened to the plan?” Yang hissed, sitting up straighter at the statement and flicking her eyes to the shocked looking Weiss. “Look, she was a member for a while, but not, like… I dunno, not like the majority of them are, or- Gotta be shitting me, Blake, come on...”

“Are you one now?” Weiss asked shortly, biting the words off as soon as they’d come. Blake shook her head ‘no’ and Weiss nodded. “And why did you leave? You said you were a member until recently, that is, so when and why did you leave? And why not leave sooner?”

“I didn’t leave sooner because my partner, the only reason I was there that long, asked me to stay.” That was wholly the truth, too. She didn’t even have to be foggy about it, and that at least offered some comfort. “He changed, though, and the Fang did too. I saw it, and I just… I couldn’t be a part of it anymore. He wanted to blow up a train full on innocent people as part of our robbery and… I betrayed him. Cut the line free, then disarmed what charges there were.”

“Cut the line free… Was this the southern run from Rust-Town to Vale? A week or so before semester start.” Blake again only nodded and Weiss blinked slowly, like she was drunk. Or more accurately, like she was processing something complicated. “Blake, I was on that train. My father ordered me to ride with the delivery.”

“Gods…” Blake’s mouth hung open and her eyes widened before she started, “I-I’m so sorry, Weiss, I didn’t…”

“Your sabotage probably saved my life.” Weiss murmured, looking her up and down and then sighing like she’d decided something. “Very well. I will need time to process all of this but… But I believe I am fine. So long as you never again keep something big like this from me, I can forgive some understandable trepidation.”

“Thank you, Weiss.”

“I do have one question, though.” Weiss remarked dryly, looking at her ears and pursing her lips anxiously. Then she licked them, shuffled her feet, and asked in a weak little voice, “Is it… Is it racist to ask if you like your head scratched?”

“I…”

“Oh my Dust and Grimm, it wasn’t even Ruby who asked…”

“T-This is the first Faunus I have ever spoken with, so I do not know the cordialities, and I am curious!” She huffed haughtily, glaring at the blond and then looking to Blake again. With an apologetic smile, she added, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I… I was out of line, asking something like that out of the blue. I apologize.”

“...I don’t like my head scratched, but scalp massages and having my ears rubbed is rather nice.” She finally answered, untucking her legs and forcing herself to relax. Ruby bounced beside her partner and her hand shot up and Blake smiled, “Yes, you can touch them. But be gentle, they’re sensitive.”

The little woman was across the room in a flash, gingerly brushing her fingers along her velvet ears, and Blake chuckled. 

“Um, may I…” Weiss paused, halfway to standing up and wide-eyed, unsure of what to say or if she should say it. 

“Just be gentle, and don’t get used to it.” She answered quietly, glad for something as simple and, relatively speaking, typical as this to deal with. “It’s not a thing I normally allow. But for today at the very least, go ahead.”

Gingerly, the pale woman joined her partner in touching the flicking little things. She chuckled and, for a moment in the corner of her eye, thought she saw a face in the window set into the thick door. Only for a moment, though, and when she turned nothing was there. Idly, she worried someone had seen her, but then she didn’t care.

Who could have seen her that she would care about, after all?

XxX----XxX----XxX

!~ Reviewer Response Section ~!

Random Fandom Reader :

Not a bad prediction, that. The Nightsisters are a decent example of Force based, or maybe oriented is a better word, magic abilities. 

Red Demon Eye :

Glad you enjoyed it.

Dr Killinger : 

Oh yes, visions tend to only ever cause bad things in Star Wars. Even if, in the end, things tend to work themselves out the visions themselves tend to be… Problematic at the very best of times.

Humber :

Asking why Blake is relevant ignores the entirety of what happens in V3, and Jaune’s vision itself, which takes place LITERALLY in what makes Blake relevant. And team RWBY, of course. 

Not trying to be snipp at ALL there, just make the point. 

No More Hashtag :

Need is a strong word to use, and it isn’t blanket across all Force users. What is, however, a blanket need is to be in places touched by the Force. Jedi of all ranks, for instance, are fine meditating and training in Temples but that is BECAUSE they are Force imbued. Jaune knows of no such places on Remnant he can get to, and short of BUILDING a new temple, he can’t make one. 

So going off to be alone, isolated and in a place surrounded by nature and ideal for what he needs is, canonically, the best secondary choice. Many Jedi after Order Sixty-Six run and hide in more natural places specifically because it is both easier to hide there and they can train more easily there.

The reasons BEHIND that are never stated, and I am simply using my theory for it.

Meteor el Drago :

Being real here? I prefer Lancaster too, personally. I won’t spoil the ship here - even if it’s obvious, to an extent - but I will say I write ships I don’t like. I write the story first, and my desires second.

Shadow Dragon Lord :

So you don’t clarify, but was that a joking ‘fuck you’ or one I should report…?

Talon Scythe :

I will reveal eventually why the clearing is important, and why Grimm avoid it, but know this. Jaune hasn’t, and won’t, examined the rock while he’s there. He’s far too distracted at the moment.


	14. The Next Day, and Coping Mechanisms

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The next morning was a quiet one, but not of the normal quiet contentment until Nora woke up and latched onto Ren for sweets. No, the last few days had passed tensely while he and Pyrrha trained nightly and the woman fought to suppress her own fears and panic. An internal war he could sense she was losing, though he didn’t know what to do about it. His sensitivity through the Force made the ache and fear clear to him. It was tragic, the fate he’d been shown, but she fought through regardless. Putting on a brave face and never once betraying his secrets, even if it could possibly quite literally save her life.

And that was something about her he found very, very impressive to say the least. No matter what, she put on a smile and put her best foot into the ring, acting as though nothing were wrong.

Unfortunately even Nora’s exuberance and excitement had been tempered. Not by the early wakeup time, or her lack of sugar yet, but instead seemingly for the somewhat grim mood that had settled on the dorm room since the night prior. Ren and the young, excitable partner he slept near were perceptive in their own right, he had already known that much before they’d come back from the forest. But when Pyrrha sat up and quietly moved to the bathroom to get dressed and showered, ignoring Nora’s quips and cheerful good mornings, they exchanged worried looks. Looks that conveyed, more than just worry, suspicion and wonder in a way Jaune envied being able to communicate with a simple look and tilt of the head.

That was terrifying, in a way. 

“She’s alright, guys.” He sighed and in answer to the unasked question there, running a hand over his face when those worried looks turned to questioning ones that they directed at him. Thinking quickly, he came to a useful half-truth and offered it to them with a yawn, “She was just up late with me. Training. We got too into it, took too long and stayed up later than we should have.”

“So she’s... Tired?” He could hear and feel the doubt in Ren’s voice but nodded regardless and stood, tugging off his sleeping shirt and reaching for his clean dress shirt. 

The girls liked to shower in the morning, and he and Ren took evening showers to give them their time, so it wasn’t a bother for anyone but Nora that he changed here. And she just averted her gaze politely, the same way they would have for her if she needed to change after Pyrrha’s shower ran long. 

Or vice versa, of course, either of them could lose track of time in the shower after all. It was easier to do that than he’d have thought before his incarceration in the Temple. Time down there was a more distant idea than it otherwise would have been. Instructor didn’t mind coming for him when that happened, though, and beating time management into him.

So he was rather practiced at keeping it, if he cared to.

“We were up late last night, training and practicing after dinner was out.” He shrugged, not wanting to go into detail about what they’d been up to but simultaneously knowing that if he didn’t they’d dig all the harder. 

To change the subject, he asked, “Do you guys know where RWBY was last night? They missed out on dinner.”

“Heard ‘em pop into their dorms last night after dinner. In time for the last Bullheads back from Vale, probably.” Nora answered, tugging her blanket tighter around her shoulders and watching him. For what, he couldn’t hazard a guess, but for some reason he felt like she was peering into his very being. Finally, she asked, “You and P Money are okay, right? Didn’t get into a fight or nothing?”

“We didn’t get into a fight, no.” Thankfully, that was entirely the truth, and while her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she appraised him with her eyes, she eventually accepted his answer. “We just… Trained and talked, there wasn’t a problem between us.”

“Hm… Well, okay then.” The woman sighed and finally shrugged, turning to Ren and beaming a warm, bright smile. “Renny, can you go ahead and make sure they have some of those cinnamon pancakes I like? They always run out before I get there when I take second shower.”

“...Alright.” The man nodded, standing and finishing pulling his own uniform together. He paused for a moment to check his pockets and make sure he had everything and then turned to Nora, “Don’t forget your homework.”

“I won’t.”

“And leave the conditioner in your hair for five minutes.” He added, the woman whining and earning a pair of raised eyebrows from him until she sighed and nodded. “I’ll make sure our table is open, too. Orange juice or milk?”

“Orange juice please! And maybe a grape-”

“No soda in the mornings, Nora. You know what happens if you get that much sugar in you.” The words earned a long, petulant whine form the woman and she flopped back onto the bed in a display of faked childish offense. 

“But Reeeeeen~!” She whined loudly, grinning all the while, “People like grapes!”

“Indeed, and they like a sugar-free Nora all the better.” The act was meant to raise everyone’s spirits and it worked, the two men smiling and Ren sighing like someone who had suffered far too long. “Jaune, make sure she gets dressed after she showers. Alright? I’ll get you and Pyr some food as well. Just in case it takes a while.”

“Got it.” He agreed, after which Ren waved a simple goodbye and took his leave, pulling the door behind him. Pulling his shirt straight and pulling his blazer on afterwards, he asked, “So, Nora, after classes do you want to maybe join us for-”

“Pyrrha isn’t just tired, Jaune.” Nora said quietly, watching the bathroom door and no doubt listening to the faint sounds of running water that told them Pyrrha was still showering. Never meeting his eyes but, he had no doubt, watching him regardless she explained, “She was upset last night when you joined us, too. And neither of you talked much, either. Then after you ate, both of you left early to do more before bed.”

“I don’t…”

“Jaune, Ren and I are both from settlements that got wiped out by the Grimm. And both of us know what people act like when something is wrong, but they don’t want to worry anyone.” Nora explained simply, finally turning to look at him with hard, bright eyes full of challenge. And an echo of something darker, too, that he couldn’t place. “The way you two look when you think no one will see, and the way you answer our questions… It’s the same.”

“I didn’t know your homes had been destroyed by the Grimm.” He said it to distract her, but the surprise in his words was genuine. They’d mentioned being Mistralian, of course, and their accents matched as well as their names. But beyond that, they had not said much of anything about it. “I… I’m sorry to hear about that, Nora.”

“It’s fine. You didn’t lead them there, after all.” She shrugged it off like she didn’t care and, for all he knew, maybe she didn’t. Or she did, but in the way someone cared about an old wound long since scarred over but always stinging. Resigned to it and moving on. “What I care about right now is you and Pyrrha acting just like they did. Our parents, their friends… What is going on, Jaune?”

“There’s… Nothing like that, Nora.” He lied, offering her a small smile along with it. Together, they heard the water stop in the bathroom and he added quickly, wanting this dealt with before Pyrrha came out and complicated matters, “Look, it’s personal, okay? And not dangerous to the team, or anything. We’re just… Handling stuff. Alright?”

“Promise?” The woman stood, half-dressed in a mix of her uniform and pajamas and not caring in the slightest, and offered her hand with her pinky extended. He hesitated, more for surprise than anything else, and she shook it, “Promise me, Jaune. I’ll trust you if you say so, but you have to promise. Okay?”

“I promise.” He nodded, twining her pinky with his and mirroring the little shake she gave to seal it. 

“Okay then!” She bounced past him and towards the door as soon as Pyrrha opened it and stepped through, a towel wrapped around her head. 

“Nora- Aiee!” The woman ‘eeped’ as the boisterous ginger pushed through and then the door was shut again, with Pyrrha on the other side. The woman flushed, straightened her skirt and then blinked and looked at him, “What was… There’s quite a lot of time before classes begin. I do not understand why she would be so rushed. Jaune?”

“She and Ren are worried about you.” As was he really, and that was something he made clear in his tone and the small smile he offered her as he sat back on the bed and reached for his shoes. “Are you okay?”

“Of course not.” She answered frankly, walking past him and tossing her towel from her head, calling her metal brush with her Polarity and sitting on her bed to brush it back and away before she changed into her dress shirt. “But I’ll be fine, Jaune. Eventually. I just need to… Grieve is the word I want to use, though I doubt how applicable it is.”

“I think it fits.” He chuckled dryly, “At least, I can’t think of a better word.”

“Then grieve I shall use.” She laughed, but the sound was short and sharp. Less airy and light, and more like glass cracking in air far too cold for it to survive. “To think I would grieve a death not yet here… And my own, to the point.”

“It isn’t a fact yet, Pyrrha.” He pointed out, sitting beside her and unsurely wrapping an arm around her in a hug. She stiffened and he pulled away, stammering, “I-I’m not the best at this sort of stuff, but my sister Saph always said to hug someone when they cry. I am told it… That it helps.”

“It does, I was just… Surprised.” She sighed and reached up, tying her hair back like a woman who’d trained to do it. Which, given the length of her hair, she probably had. Then she smiled and sighed, leaning to the side so their shoulders touched. “Just… Tell me we can survive this, Jaune.”

“Tell you?” Is that all she wanted to hear? Him say it?

“You are my friend, my partner, and my leader.” She answered by way of explanation. “If you say that it is so, then… It is so. I will believe you.”

“I… Won’t say that, Pyrrha.” She gave him a look, brows furrowed and fear sparking in her eyes, and he explained as quickly as he could, before she made assumptions and grew afraid. Wrapping his arm around her waist for the comfort he could offer her through it, like Saphron had shown him, he talked quietly, “I just… Prophecy and visions are hard to fight against, Pyr. Often, like quicksand, the more you struggle and resist the deeper you sink.”

“And you fear that fighting fate may itself bring it to me?”

“I do. And so I… I don’t know I can save you. And I won’t…” He swallowed and sighed, voicing the words he’d been thinking all day. “I won’t lie to you, Pyr. Ever.”

“Never?” She clarified, watching his face as though a lie he could tell would be etched onto his forehead for doing it. 

“Never.” He shook his head and smiled thinly. “I don’t to my family, either. Those I tell about my past, what and who I am? I trust them. And trust is a boat on a river, it sails both up and down.”

“Another of your teacher’s words?”

“No, not Instructor’s. My dad’s, actually, Instructor likes more… Stabbing related stories.” He laughed, the smile coming to him easier than it had previously. Pyrrha returned it, and for once in the hours since she was faced with her fate, it reached her eyes and sparked them to life. Like glowing emeralds, turning and reflecting the sun. “I promise you though, Pyr, I will do everything I can to save you.”

“I see.” She murmured, leaning her head on his shoulder in spite of the dampness still clinging there. He blinked at it and stiffened, again not knowing what to do, and she murmured, “I believe you, then. And I would like a hug, silly as it may be. My family did not offer affection all too often, but your hug was… Nice. I would like more, before we head to breakfast.”

“Alright.” He answered, letting her have the hug she so desired if she believed it would make her feel better. It was the least he could do, and all that he knew for a fact he could do right now, so he was content with it.

The water stopped a few minutes later and they parted, less for embarrassment neither felt and more because Nora would never let it go if she saw them hugging like that. And on Pyrrha’s bed, no less. That was simply a recipe for disaster, or more accurately, death by Nora induced crushed torsos from the hugging that would ensue from her coming to conclusions. That way lay death, as surely as the kind that an attempt to hug Instructor would lead.

When the trio were dressed, they left and headed along with some of the other early-ish risers who wanted first pick at the breakfast bar. Only a third of the students had meandered in thus far, mostly first years showing up ‘on schedule’ for breakfast and upper years with preferences on the bar they didn’t mind indulging. All were dispersed in teams laughing and jeering, partner pairs either doing the same or looking at the doors for their other halves, and little groups made up out of mixes of the two at various tables across the massive cafeteria. 

“Good morning. I saved you pancakes, and syrup as well.” Ren spoke to Nora, not either of the two trailing just behind her, and she sat beside him and gave him a hug. The two exchanged a glance then and the man turned to them and smiled, gesturing to a dozen or so biscuit sandwiches in the center of the table and seeming unconcerned with whatever concern there had been before. “I have sausage and ham. I didn’t know what else you might like, so I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, we can-”

“Oooh, they’re cute!” Nora crowed suddenly, bouncing and clapping her hands like a giddy schoolgirl at something behind them. 

XxX----XxX----XxX

“It’s fine, see?” Yang assured her with an arm wrapped around her shoulders, as much to tug her along as to make a show of defense. Like she’d snap anyone who said anything about her anxiously flicking, exposed ears in half. In spite of the hot glare she shot toward Cardinal’s way that sent the brunette hiding in his sandwich, she added, “No one is even looking all that much. See?”

“Because you glare at them like a rabid Beowolf if they do…” Blake argued it, but didn’t tug out of her grip. 

“I shall get our meals, you two sit and relax.” Weiss said as they reached their table, ignoring wholly the foursome there staring at the Faunus beside her. Likely because she didn’t want to engage with whatever they were thinking, unsuited as she was to dealing with situations such as these, Glabe hazarded a guess. “You’ve both of you enough on your plate without Ruby sans sugar to have to survive.”

“You just don’t wanna have to sit through the talk. Right, Weiss-cream?” Yang challenged sharply, earning pursed lips and the Schnee’s heels clicking as she stormed away, tugging Ruby along behind her as she went. “Yeah, that’s what I thought… Such a wuss about dealing with this kind of stuff.”

“Yeah…” Blake nodded and sat, finding it easier to deal with her friend’s looks if se ignored them and acted like all was normal. “I’d call her shy, but… Weiss.”

“Not the shyest of the bunch, that’s for sure.” Yang nodded and plopped onto the bench beside her, giving Juniper a look and explaining shortly and hotly. “Blake was scared people would judge. She’s out about them now, though. Any of you got problems, I got hands, alright?”

“Yang!” Blake whined weakly, ears flattening to the top of her head while she hid her face in her hands. “You’re being too aggressive, Yang… They haven’t even reacted yet.”

“I was ready to put Cardin through a wall over Velvet when I didn’t even know her.” Jaune pointed out simply, reaching for a biscuit and starting to pull it into pieces idly while he talked. His eyes met Blake’s and he offered a small, respectful nod, “None of us here are going to have anything bad to say about it.”

“Well…” Yang sighed and drummed her fingers on the table, but didn’t speak. “I’m just… I dunno.”

“You’re protective of your partner. Ruby too, if I had to hazard a guess” Jaune filled the point out simply, turning his gaze from Blake herself to Yang and offering another nod of approval and respect when she nodded her assent. Beside him, Pyrrha busied herself with eating a biscuit of her own when he said, “I don’t mind keeping secrets for people who are important to you. If anyone troubles her, I won’t mind lending a hand.”

“Or a saber.” Nora quipped playfully, grinning and shoving a hand-sized portion of pancakes into her mouth. “Das our dobs!”

“Nora, swallow before you speak.” Ren chided gently in a voice that practically spoke of nothing but exhaustion. Like a parent with a child that was too unruly to handle almost, but existed constantly on the very edge of driving them to surrender. “They are both right, though. We’re your friends regardless, as should be obvious by Velvet’s presence at our table whenever she isn’t training.”

“Okay.” She couldn’t say anything else, too busy watching the rest of the cafeteria around them. After a few moments of quiet eating, those that had watched the table for whatever reasons they did turned away and back to their food.

Aside from a team across the room, with a Faunus on it whose little horns curled down past an ear and along the curve of her chin. A heavy frown marred her features, too, under a barely concealed glare. Blake met her eyes suddenly, curious in equal parts to being afraid on a deep and instinctive level, but the young woman turned away as soon as she did and went back to talking with her team. Something about the woman’s lithe features stood out, though, and tickled at the back of her memories.

“Blake?” She flinched at the hand on her shoulder, grip on her fork sliding up to hold it like a knife, but relaxed in the same moment. Lilac eyes full of worry met hers and Yang asked, “Are you okay? You spaced out for a second there, starin’ off into space. Someone looking at you dirty?”

“No.” She answered unsurely, not knowing how the other Faunus had been looking at her. Not really, at least, or even if it had been her and not someone on her team. Weiss settled on her other side with a plate of potatoes and fish for her, knowing Blake’s odd morning tastes, and Blake turned to her and offered a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Of course, odd as it is.” The Schnee answered curtly, setting a shaker of salt down beside her. “Why do you eat like that, though? It’s breakfast. Surely something lighter would do better?”

“It’s…” She almost said White Fang faire, their bases often hidden near enough to the sea that they relied on fish and sea game for meat. Instead, she offered a shrug, “It’s Menagerie style food. Our climate isn’t exactly the best for farming, so potatoes and rice is what we run most of the time. And being sea-based, you have to develop a taste for fish as well.”

“Oh so that’s-” The young heiress stopped suddenly and her jaw clamped shut. Flushing a dull cherry, she turned away, “N-Nevermind.”

“No, what were you going to say, Weiss?” Yang pressed, all aggression lost under a veneer of teasing and a wide, feral smile. The Schnee flushed brighter and stared wide eyed and full of anxiety at the table, and Yang pressed, gentler and with a smaller smile and her voice low. “You can’t fix your problems with all of this without addressing them, Weiss.”

“But I don’t…” The Schnee sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose and practically murmured, “I thought you liked fish because, well… You’re… You’re, you know…”

“A cat Faunus?” Blake offered, smiling in spite of herself when the Schnee blushed so bright and stammered so awkwardly that she looked more like Ruby caught with the cookie jar in her bed than a mature woman. “You… You thought I liked fish because I’m a cat, Weiss?”

“No!” She laughed awkwardly, blinked, flushed and then leaned her elbow on the table and rested her forehead on the palm of her hand. “I mean… Yes, but no, but mostly yes and… I don’t know, I suppose.”

“I like fish because of where I’m from, not what I am.” Blake laughed and gave a wry shake of her head, ears flicking pleasantly now as she relaxed. No one was yelling, after all. Or jeering. Or hurling anything. So she laughed and added, “Do you think I’m so good at climbing for the same reason?”

“I-I… No, not really.” Not anymore, she suspected Weiss meant, and when she grinned the young woman flushed again. “B-Blake, you are a fiend and a cur. Stop heckling me! It is quite impolite given I got you your food.”

“What, telling the kitty not to bite the hand that feeds her?” Yang challenged, grinning maniacally when Weiss huffed and turned to her food without a comment. 

“Hey.” Blake murmured, laying a hand on Weiss’ leg to get her attention. The girl stiffened sharply but didn’t flinch away or turn to meet her eyes and, gently, Weiss moved the hand and arm around her shoulders to give her a hug. “We’re teasing you. And thank you, for being so good about all this.”

“Yang teases too much…”

“It’s how I cope with stress.” The blonde explained simply, voice laced with a sense of regret. Or maybe apology was a better way to phrase it, Blake decided, since Yang wasn’t the type to regret things. “Don’t stress it, I’ll cut it for today. Okay? I didn’t want to be mean.”

“Okay…” Weiss sighed, and then straightened and gave her partner a hard look across the table. “So, Ruby. Where’s your weekend paper? I don’t recall seeing it in your folder this morning.”

“Uh…”

“Dust damnit, Ruby…” Weiss growled and stood, glaring daggers at her and pointing towards the doors back to the dorms. “Come on, then. Let’s go finish it, I know you got halfway through since I helped you.”

“But there’s no tiiime!”

“There’s an hour.” Weiss corrected as the girl rose, smiling thinly at her obedience. “Grab some sandwiches, and I shall help you finish it up. We have time, though we will have to rush it somewhat.”

The girl whined, the table laughed, and then the pair left with Ruby loaded down with enough sandwiches for the both of them. All the while, Blake felt herself relaxing and accepting, letting everything she’d worried about roll away and forgetting about it. The rough spot was done, the awkwardness nearly nonexistent, and what problems there were they were working through. Turning back to her food, she looked back to where the sheep had been and blinked. The table, previously full, was empty now.

And that had her paranoia spiking for a moment, before Yang threw an arm around her shoulders and her Scroll flashed. “Dad wanted to see what my partner looked like. Apparently he didn’t buy ‘a cute little housecat’.”

“Yang!” The woman laughed, “That’s… Kinda racist.”

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The Qrow :

Oh he does hide his abilities. But for a very, very clear reason that instructor lays out. And as shown later, if needs must, he will reveal it instantly. He is every bit my interpretation of a pure Sith. Bound by his convictions over even functionality.

The Helper (Guest) :

I thought I did. Correction noted and changed. Thanks.

Paradox Reader :

I would argue Blake and Jaune have comparable, if different, tragic backstories. Jaune loses his best friend and potential lover. Blake, though… Gods, to have a heart that cares for others but be part of a literal race of people oppressed for having cat ears and the like? That is tragedy, as surely as losing an arm or a mother.

I won’t comment on future story twists and turns, but I do try and build things up properly. I fuck it up, sometimes, but I try. Do understand, though, I write bittersweet endings typically. 

Red Demon Eye :

It’s almost like I enjoy teasing you all with information. Revan’s legend is at least tangentially known, there are locations suffused in the Force, the Force seems to make the Grimm avoid areas for some reason… So many questions~

One question I will answer, though, is that jaune does wear armor.. Not when he’s going out on the town, mind you, but it’s detailed that he wears light armor over his robes in an Ansel chapter.

Zenith Tempest :

I know. But he isn’t trying to make her an apprentice, just help direct her. Motivate her, so he can protect her. I will explain that a Revanite isn’t chained in the way you detail, though. They strive for power to protect what they love, yes, but like a Jedi they will let it go before annihilating themselves.


	15. Honor and Duty

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Official Supporters: 

Grand Priestess, Luna Haile. 

High Priests, Alvelvnor, Gage. 

Priests, The Impossible Muffin, Xager the Chaos King. 

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Ze Nope Rope, Kaiser Snek

Acolytes, DigiDemonLord, Stonecold

Initiates, Final Heaven, Greg Gibson, Espa Cole

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM one of us for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove spaces and it SHOULD work : D iscord . gg (slash) kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Several days blended into a week or so after Blake’s in a vicious, familiar cycle of training his body to breaking, and then swapping to do the same with his mind. Weekends were spent meditating and resting, so neither body nor mind would break under the strain, but even then he trained. Or, well, studied would be more accurate. Readings on Grimm physiologies, as much as could be observed at least since they tended to kill themselves trying to break out of their need to get at their captors, as well as history and mythology.

Pyrrha made good on her threat to drill him into the ground, and only relenting when the weekends came around. 

“What are you reading?” As always, the woman was his escort out to the little pond for his meditation and rest. By now she knew it as a formality, though, once they got to the idyllic place. She straightened on the long rock he’d moved out into the water below his stone for her, her leg armor laid out beside her and her feet resting in the cool water. Fall in Vale was a season of swings and roundabouts, and today was hot enough for her to enjoy the cool water. “You’ve been at it for some time yet, and with your brow furrowed like a father observing a misbehaving child.”

“The book could fit that definition easily enough…” It wasn’t making any sense to him, or clearing up any of his questions. Or his confusions.

“Well I quite doubt you can ground or beat the book for its misbehavior.” She smiled and rolled her eyes at his snort of derision and sighed, watching the clouds drift by overhead. “What is it failing to cooperate on?”

“The Dark Raven.” The man, or woman as some of these tales implied and stated as contradictory to history as that was, was called that in full in Mistral’s history. And in others, the person called ‘Raven’ who he believed to be Revan was called very different things. “The Black Fate, the Imperial Blade, the Red Severance… So many names, but the stories are so similar.”

“You think them the same person?”

“I don’t know for certain, but the elements… They are all there. All as similar as different versions of the Dark Raven, at least.” And given the presence of space faring vessels in the truth of Revan’s visits to this world, if indeed he had come here, the distance was a moot point. Twenty minutes in a fighter and the journey between Atlas and Menagerie would be through with. “And that would answer a few things, though it would also raise a thousand and one questions.”

“Such as?”

“If this legend is in reference to Revan, every legend is called into question.” And he did mean every legend. Or at least the ones that weren’t clearly fables. “The Girl in the Tower could be about a woman forced into isolation for over Force sensitivity. It can, when that happens, manifest violently, which would seem as magic.”

“And a noble could see his daughter locked away rather than, well…” The woman grimaced and her distaste and anger flared through the Force around him for a moment before it sputtered and then winked out, washed away by her general attitude and the strength of the Force here. “Tried.” 

“Indeed.” They all knew what a ‘witch’ could expect back then, when superstition reigned. “But there’s more. The Force can manifest spirits, and even the Brothers reflect that. Light and Dark, starkly represented. It’s obvious, looking now.”

“So much history would be changed, if this ever came to light…” She murmured, before a thought crossed her mind and she added in an afterthought, “Assuming they were real.”

“Of course. Assuming they were real.” And that was an assumption, there. It could as easily have been people with Force powers acting the part, or just pure myth and coincidence. The word rankled him, but it was bound to be the case with some of these stories. “My hope was that these stories would mention specific places that I could reference in future. Maybe see if temples are buried near them, or something.”

“Planning for the future?”

“The immediate future, if things start looking grim.” He met her eyes and she grimaced in understanding. “Pyr, you know that there’s no sense in dying, you or anyone else, if we can just leave.”

“I suppose… Though I fear what could push us both to that manner of flight.” The concern was an evident one. Both of them were formidable fighters, and only growing more so as they trained and studied. And backed by an academy’s worth of students, there should have been few things that could frighten them, much less force them to flee. “And what of our friends?”

“I would rather they come with us than stay behind.” As much for their benefit as his, adding strong allies and friends to his group and protecting them from… Whatever might come, he supposed. “And team Ruby as well, if they’re willing or… Or seemingly in danger, or anything like that.”

“And Velvet?” She pressed, eyes hard chips of jade that bored into his own in sudden challenge. “What of her team? And what of their friends? Team Ruby are getting on with Sun and Neptune, so will they be along as well? If we are to run, how much of the student body will be invited along?”

“What is your point?” He demanded, knowing better from his gaggle of siblings than to argue against her making her points. 

“That I won’t abandon anyone to save my own skin, Jaune.” She answered simply, along with a sad smile that she offered him when he tensed. His mouth opened to argue, but she was there first, speaking over his stammered protests. “I am a Huntress, Jaune. Afraid to die but unwilling to leave people to do the same in my stead. Perish all thoughts of flight.”

“Limiting our options is a poor choice, Pyr.” He growled, good mood gone as he closed his heavy book and slid it into his bag. She didn’t answer beyond a simple nod and grimace, clearly aware of the implications. “You’ve been thinking about this for a while… Haven't you?”

“You phrased it as a question, but your eyes speak of certainty.” Force or not, the woman was perceptive. 

Distantly, he wondered just how powerful she’d be with training in the arts, but he banished the thought as quickly as it had come. She wasn’t Sensitive, he knew it for certain after so long in such proximity to her. Or as certain as he could ever be, untrained to test that as he was. A sad loss of power that could have furthered their purposes, to her survival and beyond, but such was life.

“I’ve sensed how distraught you’ve been, when you’re left alone especially.” As a result, he’d avoided leaving her alone at all. As losing a battle as that had been, he’d still fought it, and the hypocrisy he felt at his not wanting her to do the same here gnawed at him. “I’d thought it about the vision itself. Now, I would change my guess to it being about what you will do when it comes to pass.”

“You’d be half right.” She responded quietly, face turning forlorn for a moment before she sighed and began to elaborate. “For a few days, and some even after I moved to thinking about what to do, that was all I could focus on if something wasn’t forced onto me. Then, I asked myself what I should do about it. What I should plan to do, terrified or not.”

“And you chose ‘die with honor’ instead of trying to get away alive?” He asked, his tone none too gentle. Or subtle about how he felt about it, judging from her small smile. 

“I’m Mistralian, Jaune.” She said, as though that should explain everything about her decision. When his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in confusion, she added, “Honor and duty matter to me. As much as anything else.”

“But what do those matter if you’re-”

“If I cast those aside to save my own life, then I wouldn’t be me. I’d die as surely as I would to any blade or arrow.” He wanted to argue that she literally would not, but bit his tongue at the last moment and scowled at the water instead. Seeing how upset he was, Pyrrha sat up and offered him a smile. “Don’t be angry or upset yet, Jaune. You know it’s not good for you to be, with your abilities. And besides, it is not as if I intend to go quietly into that grim blackness of death.”

“I guess that’s the plan regardless.” Even if her taking away retreat as an option set him off in a way he couldn’t explain, he knew arguing now would be pointless. She was set with her decision and wouldn’t change it if he started yelling, even if he so wanted to start yelling. “As long as you’re sure, Pyr.”

“I am, Jaune.” And he could sense as well as see it, etched into her face and the way she squared her shoulders. 

“Absolutely sure.” He had to check and she seemed to understand, though she grimaced. At him second guessing her, he supposed, so he rushed to add. “I just want us to do this right. The risks are way too high not to check every last thing and make sure.”

“I am as certain of this as I am of my desire to be a Huntress.” And that echoed of a kind of certainty in her that mirrored how certain it was that what went up came down again. Her face softened and she added, gently, “I know what may come, Jaune. Please, I need my partner to support my decisions.”

“All right then… That just makes our need of power more desperate, really. If we can’t run, we’ll just have to go ahead and win.” With a resigned sigh he gave up fully, at least for now and apparently for her, and ran his fingers through his short beard, idly scratching in thought. Pyrrha gave him a look when he did, equal parts amusement and dislike, and he sighed at the old irk for her that was his short little braid beard. “I’m not shaving it off, Pyr.”

“But you would look so handsome without it…”

“My mother says I look handsome with it.” He argued, knowing full well she’d likely say he was handsome, no matter what he wore or what kind of hair he grew. A mother was wont to compliment her children already, and when you added in his disappearance and near-miraculous reappearance it only worsened. She knew it too, judging by her smirk, and he added a gruff, “I happen to like it, too.”

“I suppose you do wear it well enough.” He blinked at the compliment and gave her a look, but she turned away to pull her greaves back on boredly and ignored his unasked question. “We should head back. I promised Weiss that I would spend some time with her studying.”

“I-I’m planning to challenge Yang to a spar later, too.” She hummed and he grimaced at his stammer, taken aback by her suddenly complimenting him. What had spurred that on? Yang was the tease, not Pyrrha. Eventually, he gave up and simply agreed, “We should head back. We don’t want to be out too long or Miss Goodwitch will get upset, especially if she finds out I’m reading old fairy tales.”

“It’s studying.” Pyrrha argued, which was a fair point to make. “She shouldn’t mind you studying while you meditate.”

“These aren’t exactly on the curriculum, Pyr.” He countered, standing and calling his saber to his hand before sliding it home in his pack. “But even if you’re right, which you might be,” he added that to make sure she knew he wasn’t debating the matter, and avoid that potential landmine, “I would still rather not have to deal with the argument in the first place.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.” She conceded, turning when he leapt down from the rock to join her on hers. 

As always, before they left, he gave the boulder a long and pensive look, wondering what exactly made it so special. Eventually though, also as always, he turned and left with not a single answer to his questions.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“You sure ‘bout this? Our last fight went pretty damn badly for you.” There was guilt in Yang’s eyes as she said that, leaning against the door of her dorm in her sleeping clothes. He caught sight of silver eyes behind her, peeking out from under a blanket anxiously, and she added, “Don’t wanna, you know, take off your arm or nothin’. Losing a limb can end a Huntsman’s career, and over a spar? Not worth it.”

“You don’t have to worry about it.” He assured her. Pyrrha had spent hours, over days, hucking rocks at him hard enough to leave welts, and left plenty until he could snap back and forth alternating Aura and the Force. “I’m working on that problem, you won’t hurt me again. And I want a real spar against you. One that isn’t ended for some scratches.”

“I shot you, Jaune.” Yang argued, “With shrapnel shells.”

“You grazed me at best, Yang.” Pyrrh scoffed and pushed her their dorm’s door open, heading off to rest or get some alone time to cope with everything. 

“I saw bone!” She countered loudly, running a hand over her face when he waved the concern off and asking instead, “Why does something like that not even phase you? Wait, do I even want to know?”

“Probably not, no. I doubt you would approve my Master’s, er, training style.” She was ever the maternal, nurturing kind, he knew. And for that reason, he doubted she would be happy with the way he’d been trained, even if it had worked out. “Let’s just say I’m very, very tolerant to pain. And it can fuel my abilities as well, pain and anger I mean, so I don’t mind.”

“I do, though…”

“I’ve been training specifically to fix what happened in our spar. And have you seen it occur since that time? Even once?” She opened her mouth to speak and he cut her off, “You can break someone’s nose through Aura, and mine didn’t even break all the way. It just got tweaked bad enough to bleed.” 

“You really wanna spar?”

“I do, yeah.” He needed to prove to himself that he could take her on, for purely petty reasons. And he was very aware they were petty, him simply not liking that their fight hadn’t actually reached a satisfactory conclusion. “And you can’t honestly mean to tell me that you were satisfied by the end of our match.”

“Satisfied…?”

“I mean, I know I can beat you easily, now.” He saw her concern vanish as his teasing barb took shape but ignored it, sighing theatrically and turning to leave. The woman followed a step behind as he reached for his door, and he could sense her emotions whirl with his words, cleverly placed to tease her into her competitive bent. “I guess Nora may prefer to spar with me instead, since you’re scared to lose.”

“Scared?” She laughed, “I’m not scared to lose to you, Shaggy.”

“Oh?” Hook, line, and so the saying went, he supposed as he turned to give her a surprised look. He could seen in her eyes she knew he was teasing, and sense it as well, of course. But such was the game. “If you feel that way, then meet me in say… Twenty minutes? Sparring arena three?”

“I’ll be there, and I’ll beat you into a square. Just remember that you asked for it, Jauney Boy.” She promised hotly, grinning ear to ear as she shut the door to get dressed and tell her team where she was going. 

Rather than wait for her to be ready and walk with him, he turned to head that way and smile. It would be nice not to have to deal with her walking on eggshells around him after what had happened. For a while, he focused on the fight to come, and how he planned on moving and countering against Yang to vett how he would do so against others who fought like her in the future. 

An important step, to be sure.

But sadly it was not that which dominated his mind as, still armed and armored from his trek into the woods, he sat down in the small arena’s surrounding seats to wait for her. Like the far larger main arena where classes were held, students were sitting around it to watch whatever spars came while they studied. Whether studying books or other styles, it was ultimately the same in being the pursuit of power. 

And it was also all the same in that none of it managed to hold his attention either.

Swiftly, as always, his thoughts turned inward and to his partner, and his vision. He’d tried a dozen times to reach out for that vision and glean more from it, but always to no avail. Once, he managed to hear it again, but only an echo of words he’d already heard. So echoing and samey as what he’d already heard and felt, in fact, that even now he wondered if that had been merely a dream. 

So for now, he’d given up, and turned to how to survive his vision with his partner intact. And she’d shot down fully half his plans, for ‘honor’ and ‘duty’. Virtues he did value, but not when it led to someone being wasted so blatantly. What good was the kind of honor that sent someone to die pointlessly, after all? Like Instructor had said in between beating him into the hard Temple floor, ‘honor is as pointless as everything else for the dead’. 

“Not that she would listen to that… Too much Mistralian honor baked into her head.” Alone, he allowed himself to almost snarl, and slammed a hand down into the bench beside him. No one paid him any mind, of course, too enraptured by the students testing out flashy moves on the floor of the training arena. “The stubborn idiot! She’s going to get herself killed for some petty sense of honor, going like that.”

“Did I… Come at a bad time?” He flinched and rose, the Force instinctively reaching out for his saber before he could catch himself. Blake blinked, startled, and stepped back from him with an eye on the weapon, wary in the way someone used to fighting was but comfortable in the way of someone used to being safe. “I believe the saying is ‘don’t take my head off’? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s… Fine.” He sighed, returning to his seat and waving off the looks the other students were giving him now. “I was just distracted, Blake. I’m sorry.” Enough that he’d reacted on instinct, and not even noticed her coming… “You know how reactions can be, when you get lost in thought.”

“It happens to the best of us.” She shrugged finally, taking a seat beside him when he offered it and smiling, “Ruby does it often, in fact. She’s nearly broken lockers quite a few times with Crescent Rose.”

“Yeah, she gets nervous about spars or field work and suddenly a door has a new dent.” It had happened at least half a dozen times already, which while not terrible was definitely not a mark of success. “Like you said, though. Happens to the best of us.”

“So are you nervous, then?” He gave her a look and she shrugged, “Since you reacted that way, and Ruby’s reason is nerves, is yours the same? Or something else?”

“Nerves, I guess.” He answered, which wasn’t actually untrue, even if she couldn’t possibly have any idea about what had him nervous. “I’ll be fine, though.”

“Yang isn’t that bad…”

“I’m not nervous about sparring with Yang.” He snorted, shaking his head at her reaching the obvious conclusion. 

“Then what has you so nervous?” She asked, her ears, now bare, flicking at the disparate sounds in the room but simultaneously turning towards him. A tell of hers that she was paying attention, he supposed. Like an actual cat’s tell, the little bastards always well aware that you were talking to them. “If you don’t mind me asking, I mean.”

“And if I do?” She only shrugged in answer and he snorted a laugh. For once, he went with the out and out lie, and simply shrugged himself and said, “It’s nothing. Just stupid stuff with my team. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, pushing only as far as he knew she felt she ought to in order to be a good friend. “I’m here if you need to talk. I got my own problems off my chest, more or less, so there’s space on the shelf now.”

“It’s not something I can talk about by myself even if I wanted to.” Which he really, really didn’t. Just the sheer mass of questions that would be asked was more than enough of a prohibiting factor for that to be the case. “Kinda like if Yang had gone off to me to talk about your ears.”

“Ah. I-I see what you mean...” As usual, she seemed to nearly shut down at the words, still not quite used to them being brought up. Her ears flattened and, anxious, her eyes flicked around the room like she was looking for Grimm. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy or anything, Jaune. I only wanted to-”

“Offer me help.” He acknowledged, already understanding her reasoning and smiling to show his gratitude. “It’s fine, you’re a good friend to do that, even when you’re clearly uncomfortable doing it. Not for bad reasons, I’m sure, but rather because you just aren’t one to prod.” 

“I’m not, no…” She grimaced and added quickly, before he could presumably take offense. “But if you need to talk, and choose to speak to me, that’s fine. I won’t turn you away. It would be wrong of me to do that, after everything Yang did for me.”

“I know, Blake. I know.” She was a good friend, if a more standoffish one. He spotted Yang approaching and pointed to her where only the Faunus could see and, gently as he could manage, added, “Yang’s here.”

“Oh?” As expected, she sat up straighter and her ears shot up taut, flicking the way he pointed before she could even turn. It was adorable in a way and sad in another how much the Faunus fed on Yang’s aura, pun not intended, waving and calling a gentle, “Hey, Yang.”

“Sup, Kitty Cat.” She jerked her head in greeting and rolled a shoulder, stretching as she turned a bemused face on her sparring partner. “You ready for some bruises, or trying to get to pet the kitty over here?”

“Yang!”

“I’m not saying you’ll win, obviously, but yes. I’m ready to collect a few bruises finally finishing our long awaited spar.” He rose with the words and smiled, then bobbed his head towards the arena. “I didn’t reserve a spot, though, so we should probably get in line. Who knows how long it will take, but-”

“Oi, assorted cucks and cunts!” Yang shouted down at the arena and, around its edge, the waiting fighters eager to get a bout in. The students, to a man and woman, turned at her recognizable voice, some with exasperation and more than a handful with anxiety at Yang’s… Reputation regarding those who ignored her. “Me and Shaggy over here are ‘bout to get our spar from a couple weeks back up and running. Place your betsm and fuck off outta the ring, the show’s in town.”

Whether because they were scared of Yang or because they wanted to see the fight, they did as she told them and he shrugged. A fight now or a fight later, it was all the same to him in the end.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“She’s a first year, Ozpin.” Ironwood argued, his face grim and scowling on the widescreen Ozpin had put him up on. “Miss Nikos is an admirable champion, and a brave woman by all accounts. But so young… I don’t know.”

“She’s Mistralian, though, so playing up the whole ‘honor and duty’ angle will be useful.” Beside the Atlesian, a frozen picture of Qrow took up the other half of the screen, the man out in the sticks at some tavern and not able to connect well enough for a live feed. “Not sayin’ to change anything, mind you. Just say what you would’ve before and she’ll agree.”

“Every Huntress should feel the same bond to honor and duty, and the same need to protect.” Ozpin pointed out, even as he very much knew how true the opposite was. Hunters were just as selfish and cowardly as any others, in a comparable scope to civilians. “And yes, she is very young, but approaching her means four solid, safe years with her here. To master the Power, safe from Salem’s claws.”

“Still…” The old general sighed, scratching at his neck where, Ozpin knew, his cybernetics combined with his flesh to make his whole. Something which, the man had said a lot of times, led to a lot of discomfort. “I don’t like it. Children should be free to be children, not heaped with these kinds of jobs.”

“Don’t you bring up yours to be soldiers, Jim?” Qrow barbed sharply, the man’s scowl only deepening at the not technically incorrect statement. “Sucks but this is how this stuff has to go. Salem can steal Maiden Powers, or do something like it, and we have to nip that in the butt.”

“And we do need an excuse to keep her safe and in an environment where we can train her.” The man agreed, frowning all the while in his distaste filled way. 

“And I need to know if Miss Nikos is the candidate we all believe to be the best first year.” It was better to go ahead and specify he meant among the first years, now that they’d agreed that it was a useful idea. Now, for his choice. “I believe Miss Nikos will agree to aid us, given her dutiful nature. And her skills are-”

“Only locked around fighting in arenas, Oz.” Qrow cut in to point out in the way he was wont to do. “Nothin’ in the field. I’d prefer a Frontierswoman over one that, for the most part at least. Someone with Grimm experience.”

“As would I.” Ironwood agreed swiftly, in one of the rarer instances of how the duo’s conversations tended to go. Usually, they ended with scowls, glares, shouts and long drinks from their flasks. “Ozpin, if you really think she’s the best option, we need to test her mettle first. And thoroughly, at that.”

“Her team, too.” Qrow added, “They’ll be with her for years at the Academy, and probably after, too. We need to vett them or they could turn her from us.”

“You don’t mean to tell them about the Maidens as well, surely.” Such hadn’t even crossed his mind, and the concept certainly did not appeal. And he didn’t hesitate to make the reasons known there, “That would expose our secrets to far more than I had hoped. Far, far more. It would be far safer to keep the circle closed.”

“And when they find out anyway?” Qrow asked, a question he had no real answer to. Which was not a rarity, though the man pushing on to make an argument was somewhat rarer. “Oz, you have to know that they’ll talk eventually. Especially since they gotta notice the ‘extra sessions’ she’s gonna need to train her new power. And the stuff outside their Semblance she can do.”

“I don’t like it either, but…” Ironwood sighed, “Qrow is right. Make sure you can trust the team as well, or we’ll lose her down the line to that.”

“...Very well, your arguments are sound. And I cannot refute them.” Ozpin sighed, set on Pyrrha as his choice and grimacing at the implications beyond. “I will send them out on ranging missions, then. With Miss Goodwitch. She can watch and prime Miss Nikos for the role, as best as is possible without out and saying it.”

“And the experience will bond them, better than the sparring sessions and light camping trips with their class could.” Ironwood said it for him, and he smiled pleasantly as though he’d not realized. He had, of course, but this made it more their idea collectively than his alone. “If they seem proper, we can approach them collectively, and put the choice to them.”

“Indeed.” Ozpin smiled, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his cocoa idly. “I shall make the arrangements as needed, then.”

All according to plan, more or less.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Who missed the cliff-hangers? I missed the cliffhangers.

Also, yes, I will be including a full on yang and Jaune fight next chapter as the starter. And it will be different from the last to make points ahead of, uh, *checks notes* It says here ‘ahead of all the V2/3 stuff and craziness, since things will be different to canon.’

XxX----XxX----XxX

Red Demon Eye :

*reads first half of review and starts sweating profusely*

Congrats, you’re right! I won’t answer that directly. But Jaune has a theory. A Force Theory! Haha, yeah, no, I know where the door is. Thanks.

Epic Weaver : 

Good advice!

Old Steamer :

I mean, my name is legitimately ‘Twisted Fate’, so…


	16. An Unfortunate Announcement

XxX----XxX----XxX

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If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM one of us for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

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I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Last chance to bow out, Jaune.” Yang prodded teasingly, standing across from him with an uncharacteristically flat look on her face. 

Her words teased but her face was flat and her eyes hard. What parts were visible to the crowd were jovial and happy as always. As expected of her. But down on the arena floor, what only he could see was tense. Hard. Afraid even. But he had no illusions that she was afraid of him, of course. 

She was afraid for him, and he could feel it ripple through the Force.

“I’m a lot stronger than I used to be, Yang.” He challenged, spinning his glaive in lazy circles in front of him with the Force while his arms hung at his sides. Fast as lightning, his hand lashed out and caught the weapon, twirling it in his hand and bringing the base against the ground confidently. “But hey, Yang, don’t worry.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled, “If you’re scared of me, you can always concede.”

“Oh. Are you talking shit right now?” The woman’s lips quirked and he saw and felt the mirth bubble up in her as she leaned back and laughed, “Like, are you actually talking shit to me right now?”

“Yep.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows spiked and she bobbed her head low, looking into his eyes from across the several feet. “Like, really really. You are really really talking mad shit to me, best first year in the ring, right now?”

“Really really, yeah, Yang.” He smiled, glad to feel her anxiety ebb slightly. For weeks now every time she’d looked at him, there’d been that fear, anxiety and pity. 

Now, though, there was almost only mirth and amusement. 

“So, I think we’ve chatted enough. Everyone’s chuckling, but they’ll get bored eventually.” Sliding his right leg back he brought the glaive with it so the curve of the sharp edge lined up with his calf, off hand held up defensively and a smile on his face. “So you want to stay pretty, arrogant and, most importantly, over there, or come over here for your lesson in humility?”

“Okay, you asked for it.” Yang chuckled, sliding into an easy boxing stance and rolling her neck until it popped. “Weiss-cream! Call it out, would ya!”

“If you two are done with the banter, I will!” The Schnee referee responded, still agitated from the nickname and standing by the little control panel with her arms crossed and her lips pursed. Tapping her foot impatiently, she added, “But hey, if you two want to toss childish insults and barbs back and forth, I’m sure everyone here quite enjoys that.”

A chorus of boos, shouts of no, and urgings to hurry up met her words and the Schnee rolled her eyes.

“I was meant to be making your point, idiots…” With a tired sigh and a look to the sky as though beseeching some divine providence to step in on her behalf, she gave in and pressed a command on the console. A gentle thrum reverberated around them as a signal that the barriers were powering up and Weiss spoke, mostly following the rules. “I need you both to consent to fighting each other, and acknowledge I am not an officially licensed intermediary in these sorts of things. Therefore, any injuries suffered are your own responsibility, and neither I nor Beacon Academy may be held responsible for them.”

“Got it!” Yang quipped lightly, curling and uncurling her fingers readily. “I won’t rough him up too much, don’t worry.”

“I understand and consent to the rules.” It was all a formality, really, and a bit of an annoying one considering everyone here would be well aware of the facts. Ah, but insurance wasn’t sensible more often than not, so he couldn’t say much. Grinning he added playfully, “Though you may want to prepare a stretcher! Yang might need a lift out of the ring once I’m done pounding her into its floor.”

“Oh wow are you cocky.” Yang clicked her tongue, “This is gonna be fun.”

“For the love of- Just fight already!” Weiss finally shouted, indignant and frustrated at their constant quipping. A dainty finger pressed a button and, over their heads, the Aura reader buzzed a start signal.

All the signal the two fighters could possibly have needed.

The unmistakable crack and roar of Yang’s gauntlet catapulted her across the arena towards him, the hand that had fired whipping around in a devastating blow aimed for his head. Used to similar attacks from his partner, he dodged to the side at the last moment, the fist coming so close that he felt the wind off it. He could even swear he could smell her shampoo when her head came down and her fist punched into the concrete. It cracked under the force of the blow but he was already moving, hand snapping up and the Force on his fingers. 

Under his will she was hurled away, landing on her back and rolling around to stand upright, one hand cocked back to snap off a round at him. One hand snapped up and he called on the Force, directing the first round and then the second to either side of him, where the expensive rounds impacted in muted whumpfs of Dust impacting reinforced concrete. Ducking left and down, he dodged a third round that seared by overhead and grimaced, knowing by now that he needed three seconds to be safely able get his Aura up after using the Force.

He’d managed once to get it down to two seconds, but that was out of hours worth of attempts, and he wasn’t going to risk it here.

Instead of risking another shot when he saw her right arm come back and cock another round, he flicked his free hand out, palm open and ready to launch an attack. Seeing the gesture and smart enough to know what it meant, the woman crossed her arms in front of herself and braced for his attack. But instead of some devastating blow, he only leapt with a smile, using the Force to propel himself and recovering his Aura mid-flight in case of attack. The maneuver was lightning fast and one he’d practiced and which didn’t disappoint, catching the woman off guard and landing in front of her and sinking low. As hard as he could, he slammed his shoulder into her chest, glaive held between them so the blade could block her fists and other hand calling on his power. 

Taking a note from Pyrrha’s books, he yanked at the backs of her knees instead of attacking outright and she squeaked, thrown onto her back from the sudden, surprising force of the pull sweeping her legs from under her and his shoulder in her sternum. She landed spread eagle and visibly shocked and he rolled off her. 

First landing on a palm and then pushing off with the Force to leap into the air and right himself, he moved above her head and turned midair, coming down as carefully as he could manage and miming Pyrrha’s lessons. Landing and standing over her with his feet planted to either side of her head he gave her a smile. She snarled in response and tried to rise but a hand snapped out above her and the Force pinned her, invisible bindings trussing her wrists and ankles to the ground. She writhed, knees and shoulders bucking, and to her credit he had to focus to keep her down.

Eventually, though, she grunted and fell limp, and he pressed the curved edge of his glauve to the side of her neck.

“I win by pinning. You can’t break my Semblance, and even if you could, you wouldn’t do it before” He grunted, taking a deep breath to recover his stamina and then smiling down at the woman. She didn’t say anything, only pursed her lips, and he added, “Concede the fight. Chipping your Aura away for an hour would be annoying, and I don’t want to choke you out with my Semblance either.”

Left unsaid was that he would if he had to, and the woman sighed and nodded at that.

“I give! Tall, dark and blonde has me pinned and I can’t get past his Semblance.” She finally called, to a chorus of excited cheers, angry booing, and everything in between. “Real life, he could smash away until my Aura cracked.” 

Releasing her, he turned and gave Weiss a nod, chuckling to himself at just how many hands were forking over Lien to their friends at his winning. Apparently, everyone had bet against him.

“Then I announce the match in favor Jaune Arc, by pinning and technical defeat. Good work, to both of you.” Weiss called stiffly, pressing a button that had the overhead barrier generator thrum and buzz again. A signal that the barrier was down and no one should fight any more. “Whoever wants to head into the next match can-”

“All first, second and third year students to the auditorium immediately, please. This is a compulsory attendance event, and no reasons to miss will be tolerated.” The Headmistress’ voice was clear and loud, echoing around them from the speaker system spread around the room. “All classes are to be cancelled for the interim of an emergency Academy meeting. Lunch period servings will restart once the meeting has concluded. To those exercising or sparring, come in what you are wearing. Time is of the essence.”

“That’s worrying.” He only grunted at Yang’s snide grunt, and offered a hand to help her up when she rolled onto her knees. She took it and let him tug her upright, smirking and bumping her elbow into his lightly armored side as they began to make their way off the floor, “Thanks for the hand. Looks like P-Money taught you some dirty tricks, though, and that wasn’t fun.”

“I wouldn’t say she taught me dirty tricks…”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” The woman rolled her eyes, grinning roguishly as they left the arena and he spotted Ruby and Pyrrha coming their way while the others filed out of the room. He caught Nora looking their way and fighting the crowd headed for the doors that she’d been swamped in, but waved her off while Yang snarked. “P-Money might get upset if her boy-toy were talkin’ about her like that, after all.”

“Boy toy?” He asked, turning to meet her teasing gaze with a raised brow. “I may be a boy but I wasn’t aware of the toy part.”

“Gods you must be dense…” Whatever she meant, though, she didn’t say and instead turned to catch a flying Ruby Rose. “Oof. Hey, lil’ sis.”

“Yang, how could you!” The younger girl slammed into her sister at full speed, legs and arms wrapped around her, and turned a scowl on a surprised Jaune. He blinked a very obvious question at her scowl and, almost shyly, she complained, “I lost all my cookie money, cheater…”

“Ruby Rose! What have you been told about betting Weiss’ money? She gave you that allowance to get your sweets, not gamble.” Yang chastised, fighting to get the girl off her like a woman prying off a growth. “Let go, you leach!”

“Nope!” She laughed, wriggling to keep a grip on her older sister and climbing on her like a monkey might a tree. “I am safest here!”

“Not when I get ahold of you after you tried to wrestle around on me you aren’t! You remember your eleventh birthday same as I do, young lady.” When the young Rose finally lost her grip, the blonde brawler held her by the hood like a cat caught where it ought not be while Jaune and his partner chuckled. “And don’t give me that ‘it was a sure thing’ line, either. You never know when someone will whip out a dirty trick.”

“Oi!” He challenged, “It wasn’t a dirty trick.”

“I disagree, tall, dark and scraggly. It made me lose, so that means it was a dirty, dirty trick. Like, as dirty as Blakey’s reading habits.” She gave him a grin along with her joking tone, just to be sure he would know she wasn’t entirely serious about it. Ruby, seeing her distracted sister, tried to wiggled her hood free and Yang scowled, rounding on her again. “Nuh uh, don’t think I forgot about you, young lady.”

“B-But Yaaaaaang!”

“No butts but the one I have a strong temptation to tan right now. When we get back to our room, you are in so much trouble young lady.” She threatened, dropping her younger sister and giving the partner pair a look. “What do you think the sudden call to the auditorium is about? I don’t remember hearing about any assemblies.”

“There weren’t any, my best friend forever would have made sure to remind me.” Ruby pouted as she stood and straightened her cloak behind her, giving Yang a petulant look. “And I’m the team leader! I say no spanking the team leader, and that’s that.”

“Mhm, we’ll see about that back in the dorm when you tell your ‘best friend forever’ that you lost your sweets money on betting in fights.” Yang challenged, smirking victoriously when Ruby collapsed in on herself, pouting and fuming anxiety with her arms crossed. “What do you think is going on, then? If the assembly wasn’t announced…”

“I would wager we will find out shortly.” Pyrrha commented, turning and waving a hand towards the door that even now students were meandering through. “Shall we? Attendance is compulsory, after all.”

“Yeah, I guess. Not much point skipping an assembly after all…” Yang sighed, gripping her hands behind her head and, after realizing they were still expanded, flicking Ember Celica closed so she could relax. Jaune’s glaive clanked home as well and they began to climb the stairs to leave while she talked. “And ‘sides, Miss Goodbitch sounded really, really like she’d get mad at anyone not there.”

“Yaaang,” Ruby whined, playing up her childishness to amuse and distract from her being in trouble, “you can’t call her that.”

“Hey, what she can’t hear can’t hurt me.” The blonde shrugged as he followed behind her, rolling his eyes all the while. In front of Pyrrha, Ruby whined again and Yang laughed, “Relax! I get enough detentions people will start askin’ if the Big Bad Witch has a thing for me.”

“I don’t think people think that way about the Headmistress.” Pyrrha countered, chuckling under her breath and giving Jaune a look. A meaningful look at that, eyes hard and face set in a mask of a smile. She gave a small nod, then, and added soberly, “And she sounded afraid of something. I wonder what kind of ordeal would possibly make a nervous woman out of the Headmistress of Beacon Academy.”

What she didn’t say was that whatever it was that could make the Headmistress even carry the hint of urgency her voice had was something they should fear. Especially given what they were fearing down the line. After all, any threat that could push Beacon Academy itself into even just emergency assemblies was already something to be feared with Pyrrha’s death sentence hanging over her. 

“Whatever is coming,” he started simply, giving her a return nod, “we can deal with it together. Teams and friends, we can do just about anything.”

“Drinkin’ that good old Beacon Kool-Aid, eh?” Yang challenged playfully, tone nonetheless tensed from his own tension. “And why do you sound so serious all of a sudden? Nothin’ going on around that I’ve heard of. Rubes?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing big going on in Vale. I-I mean, I read that Mistral had a few bad cases recently with teams not coming back from jobs, but… We’re fine.” Ruby gave him a look, sharper eyes than belonged on a child even in their profession seeming to analyze him. “But you sounded worried. Is, uh, is something up?”

“No.” He answered quickly, already not liking the taste of the lie. “Nothing is wrong, per se. Just… Worried, like you guys, about the sudden announcements and stuff.”

The two young women seemed convinced by his words, but Pyrrha of course wasn’t. And she was just as against blatantly lying as he was, even if they both knew they couldn’t not lie about this. So even if she didn’t say anything, he knew she was upset for having to lie regardless, and felt it swamp him every step of the way to the auditorium.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“I understand disliking it, but each of those students consented to fighting the Grimm when they decided to attend this Academy.” He chided the woman gently, standing behind the curtains of the auditorium stage and watching her closely. Cold feet weren’t abnormal, he knew that much for fact, and he knew equally well that they could strike at random. “They knew what they would face, and that is all we will be asking of them. To face Grimm where it is safe enough for a team of Academy level Hunters to face. In order to free up more veteran class teams and, ultimately, proper Hunters as well to face larger threats this is a measure that is needed and that they will understand.”

“But it’s a measure asserted under false pretenses.” She argued, turning to look at him from where she stood at the edge of the curtain, just where they couldn’t be seen by anyone but the drones preparing the stage. “There is no great Grimm incursion or threat that has our Hunters under duress. We’re just saying there is to test our teams for more important duties, in a way that won’t be noticed.”

“I would wager our enemies will notice our efforts.” He pointed out, smiling in a thin veneer of attempted humor. “Sending almost a thousand extra fighters out into the fields? Admittedly off and on, but still. They will notice.”

“Yes, they just won’t know why we are lying about the reason so many children are being sent to war.” She gave him a look that said she wasn’t in the mood for games and he sighed and shrugged, taking a sip of his drink to buy a moment of time. “They’re children… I just want to let them be children for a while longer. At least the first years.”

“A team among the first years will host Fall, Glynda.” He pointed out firmly, meeting her eyes and blinking owlishly at the words. He couldn’t allow himself to blink or seem to react to the argument, such as it was, since any such reaction could prompt her. “If we only send out one team of first years, they would be noted and then slaughtered. Is that better to risk, in your eyes, than normal risks to trained fighters?”

“No! Of course not, Ozpin, I just-”

“Then this is the best way to deal with things, Glynda.” He’d learned well how to deal with his underlings in the centuries since his odd incarceration on this planet, at the behest of the Lord of Light. “It’s been decided already, regardless, so cold feet will help no one. Our only options are this, or revealing our hand or revealing our cards and risking far worse.”

“I suppose…”

“Trust me, Glynda.” He offered, closing the distance with her and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. He spoke softly and smiled, trying to reassure the comparatively young woman as best had was able.“I have been dealing with these concerns, fears and situations for eons. This is a gamble, yes, but our best one possible.”

“If you are certain…”

“I am, Glynda.” He assured her, offering a last, comforting squeeze of her shoulder and a small nod before stepping back. With a warm smile, he gestured to the stage and prodded her gently, “Now, you have an announcement to make. And do pitch it well. I don’t want everyone to get upset, or start to be afraid.”

“Of course.” She nodded, turning and heading out onto the stage, the dull roar of murmuring students dying as she did. Clearing her throat while he watched on with a small smile, the woman started to speak, “Students of Beacon Academy-”

XxX----XxX----XxX

“-as you all are aware, in recent days, Mistralian Hunter guilds have suffered significant losses to the forces of the Grimm.” He grimaced at the news, and sensed disquiet around him, but neither he nor the crowd seemed surprised by the news. It had been well enough covered by the Valean News Network after all. “What was not covered, however, was that the rather well known Atlesian Specialist Corps suffered a similar bout of casualties. Vacuo has thus far been spared, but even here in Vale we are suffering… Duress.”

That revelation had a wave of murmurs and invisible fear washing over the crowd, and he turned to Pyrrha to see her own fearful reaction. Something like this was precisely what they’d both feared, an uptick in fighting that could put them in harm’s way.

“Jaune…” He heard her anxiety and grimaced, unsure of what to do about it. Seeing other partner pairs doing it, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him slightly. She stiffened for a moment, and a different emotion washed through her, but then she seemed to relax somewhat and murmured, “Thank you, Jaune…”

“Mhm.” Was all he said, listening as the older woman began to speak again. 

“Now, rest assured that there is no chance greater than normal of the Kingdoms being in danger.” That at least managed to quell the anxiety a bit, along with the excited murmuring. “However, with our Hunters otherwise engaged essentially across the Kingdoms, they are… Stretched thin. As such, the Councils of Vale, Atlas and Mistral have officially lodged requests for the four Academies to send their students on lower risk missions in order to free up more capable Hunters for more dangerous assignments without exhausting them.”

“These missions are of the simpler sort. Escorting a transport ship, killing small packs of lesser Grimm hazarding villages, those sorts of things. Things you are all more than capable of dealing with.” Having been in fights like those would probably be, he knew that not all of the students around him were capable of that. Hopefully, they’d be sorted accordingly. “Starting tomorrow, mission assignments will be handed out to teams and your performances graded accordingly. We at Beacon Academy trust you to excel in your duties as Huntsmen and Huntresses and hope you trust us to send you on missions you are ready for.”

“Get rest tonight, make peace with your duties coming more abruptly than you likely intended, and be ready for assignments to be delivered to your leader’s Scrolls come morning.” She finished, offering a curt nod and then smiling, adding in a more bright tone likely meant to balm their worries. “On the brighter side, classes and detentions will be waived outside of reading assignments and in-dorm tests. Once matters are resolved, of course, classes will resume, so do not shirk your studies more than is needed for your work.”

“I wish you all a fond good night, and good luck.” She finally said, stepping away from the podium and calling a simple, “Dismissed.”

“Oohhhh, we get to go on real missions!” He heard Ruby cheer, a sentiment he heard and felt matched by others around him heartily. His team, though, were quiet as they rose and left.

“So, what does everyone think?” He asked once everyone had settled in back in the safety of their dorm, sitting on his bed with his arms crossed. When no one answered, he turned to Pyrrha standing on his right like some kind of bodyguard, turned slightly to look out the window. “Pyr?”

“It seems like we’ll be in the field, but I believe that we as a team can stand against whatever comes.” The woman answered simply, turning back to them and offering a thin smile. It was meant to reassure them, he was sure, but he could feel the forced nature behind it. “We will be fine, I am sure. Though I would confess to being nervous if pressed.”

“I mean, yeah, we’re all nervous.” Nora offered from across the room from him, where she had her head on a pillow on Ren’s lap while he played with her hair, the girl anxious and complaining of ‘tummy flipping’. “Like, I know we’ll be fine, but…”

“Your nerves are still acting up.” The blonde nodded, knowing well enough how that could go. Quietly and hoping to offer some kind of consolation, he offered, “My teacher always said ‘a fighter that goes into battle with a still stomach does so for his stomach being full of his own arrogance’.”

“A good saying, your master seems to have had great wisdom.” Ren offered, running his fingers through Nora’s hair to relax her. He chose not to argue the amount of wisdom his automaton instructor had held claim to. “We’ll know our assignments come the morning, though. So worrying now and losing sleep seems a poor idea. We should get some rest, while we have the time and convenience. Staying up stressing ourselves will only fulfill our nightmarish fears.”

“Ren’s right.” He sighed, forced to agree through the logic even as he disliked the idea of actually doing it. Standing, he began the process of tugging his armor off and ordered gently, “Get some rest, guys. We have a big day tomorrow.”

The first of many, he was certain.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Hkblarg et Caetera :

One, your name was far more difficult to spell properly than it should have been. 

Two, yes, his abilities and inclinations will evolve. With abilities on both Light and Dark sides of the fence. I won’t detail how, but I will say that at least as of now, I don’t plan any empire building.

Illuviar :

You are of course correct, but Jaune’s education wasn’t nearly as detailed on such minutiae. As such, his assumptions will not always be correct. Same for recitations and so on, Jaune will fuck them up.

Knightwolf :

Hey, not gonna lie, I would totally love to find some excuse for a Venator to roll up in the story. Probably won’t happen, but I have a huge fan-boner for that ship. I do unironically like the idea of maybe grabbing HK, though I initially avoided that since he is a common go to for SW fics.


	17. Good Morning 'Archaeologists'

XxX----XxX----XxX

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If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM one of us for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

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Betas : Flaccid Snek, Pocket Ren

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Morning sleepy bone boys!” Nora cheered excitedly when they all began climbing out of bed drowsily, reaching for their uniforms while Nora - already dressed in hers - shoved thermoses of warm liquid into their hands. Coffee, he found after a surprised sip, but he didn’t get a chance to worry over Nora having coffee before he was shoved towards the door and she ordered, “Five-minute shower, caffeine, get dressed, go.”

 

“Nora, what’s going-”

“Nope, Fearless Leader!” Nora cut him off, hands on his shoulders pushing him towards the bathroom, rattling off quickly, “We have a big day, you guys were tense, and some coffee, a nice shower, and a good breakfast will get you all running right.” At the door, she spun him around and grinned, tapping a finger against his nose, “Boop!”

“Why did you-”

“Sign of affection.” Ren and Nora both explained, the former tired but bemused and the latter bouncing on her heels excitedly. Too tired, and uninterested to care about what that looked like and how his hormones should react to it, he turned to Ren and the man explained in a dry voice that mirrored his own apathy to it, “I don’t know why or when, but she started tapping people’s noses and going ‘boop’ when she likes them. It’s… Just a thing she does.”

“It’s cute!” Nora asserted, spinning on her heel and planting her feet with her arms at her sides like a cartoon character. Then she cocked her head to the side and bounced on one heel cutely and added, “Plus. it’s my catchphrase! I’m cute, it’s cute, everyone knows this, come on!”

“All true, Nora. And yes, you are very cute.” Ren nodded, agreeing to her claims as easily as breathing and giving Jaune a look while Nora blushed and seemed to shut down. Ren’s eyes met his over her hunched, giggling and stammering form, and he smiled. “That should keep her contained for a moment. I suggest enjoying your shower before your nose gets another visit.”

His chuckle as he closed the door turned into a loud laugh when Nora finally recovered and whined, long and loud, “Reeeeen! You can’t just… Just say things like that, it isn’t fair to do that!”

Stepping out of the warmth of the shower, he gave himself a look in the mirror and pursed his lips, scratching at the stray and loose spurts of his beard around his braid and along the side of his face unimpressedly. The reason was simple and obvious, as distracted as he’d justifiably been lately with Pyrrha, but the look wasn’t a good one. Instead of the ‘Sith Warrior’ vibe he’d left the temple with now he looked more ‘homeless’ than anything, with spurts of uneven, ungroomed hair everywhere along his chin and jaw. 

Even his braid was sloppier than normal, with stray hairs longer than strictly acceptable stuck in every direction possible. 

His razor and a pair of trimming scissors saw an end to that and, by the time the steam from his shower had faded, the sides of his jaw were clean and his goatee trimmed back to, well, a goatee. His hair was past his shoulder and wild, but he let that be, satisfied that it fit into a more rugged look than the homeless he’d had before.

“Better.” Pyrrha remarked when she saw him emerge, dressed in his uniform and looking far fresher then when he’d gone in. He offered a small smiled and then she was gone, calling out, “I won’t be long.”

By the time she traded spots with Ren, Nora had returned with several trays of pancakes, as well as sausage and biscuits, some eggs, and some bacon. Together with Pyrrha, he sat down on the floor between all their beds with the trays in front of them and Nora handed out small plastic plates for them to eat. Nora launched into a story about a dream she’d had last night, where she ruled as queen of the Grimm and had a dozen knighted Beowolves and an Ursa mount, and he let her intended effect take hold and relaxed. It was manipulation and underhanded on her part, to be sure, but he found that he didn’t mind it even as he noticed it.

She was just trying to make everyone happy, after all, after the night of tension. And he just couldn’t find it in himself to begrudge her that, or dislike it for the means she used to pull it off.

“This was a great idea, Nora.” He complimented, smiling thinly and pulling a biscuit apart as Ren finally joined them. With a murmur of thanks, he took the plate Nora offered and Jaune added, “Unless it was your idea, Ren?”

“No, all hers.” The man chuckled, taking a sip of his still-warm coffee, no doubt glad of the thermos and Nora’s foresight, before he went on. “About three hours before morning I woke up with her sitting on on waist and staring at my face. Like some kind of ginger gargoyle, and me her castle.”

“I am too cute to be a gargoyle, and I was waiting for you to wake up!” She pouted, after a second of thought, she grinned and nodded. Seeing her grin, Ren sighed knowingly and started to eat while she leaned over to steal a piece of his bacon and giggled, “I am Queen of the Castle, though~! At least you got that part right~!”

“The queen of his castle, perhaps.” Pyrrha prodded, grinning when Nora flushed, fell back on her rear and started flailing her hands in front of her like she was warding off bees. Amid her stammer of protests, Pyrrha burst out laughing and nearly fell over, grabbing onto his forearm to steady her instead. “Gods, Nora, you are so easily teased. And energetic as well, this morning!”

“I maaaaybe snuck in some coffee. Just a lil’ bit, since I was off on my own.” She giggled when Ren scowled at her and held up a hand, pinky and forefinger just barely apart in a show of how much she’d had. Then she started miming squishing his head, murmuring a ‘Boop’ each time and giggling more as he glowered. “Not my fault, Renny~!”

“It most definitely is your fault, though.” He stated simply, pausing long enough to take a bite of his biscuit, chew, and look to her. Gently and slowly, he reached a hand out and thumped her nose. “Bad Nora, getting into the coffee. You know you aren’t allowed in there. Now you’re going to be hyper all day.”

Nora blinked and then, very suddenly, flopped back onto the floor between Ren’s back and his bed. He took another bite and, loudly, she whined, “Jaaaaaaune!”

“Uh, yes, Nora?”

“Ren killed me!”

“But…” He blinked, sat his half-eaten biscuit down and sighed, before he finally asked, “One, how did he kill you? And two, how are you telling me about it if he killed you?”

“I’m a ghost Nora! Back from the dead to haunt the living!” She said simply, springing up off the ground in a way that had him question gravity, somehow spinning and turning in the air, and then landing on her knees behind Ren with more agility than the sum total of a house full of cats. He didn’t blink as her arms closed around his chest and her hand came around, gently tapping Ren’s nose, “Boop.”

“And now you’re not allowed to hang around Yang.” The Mistralian young man said with a heavy sigh but a small smile, holding a piece of bacon up on a fork. She snapped it up and, growing more sober, Ren sighed, “This is nice. I hope we get to do this again soon, in spite of the mission assignments.”

That somewhat brought the mood down, though no one seemed upset. Instead, forks and plates were set down and eyes turned to Jaune, whose Scroll had been muted through the night. Quietly, he drew it out of his pocket and clicked it open and, sure enough, there was a message with the Beacon profile picture. As well as around fourteen from Ruby, and ten from his mother, but both of those were normal and - while preferable - largely unimportant at the moment. 

“We’re to leave at two o’clock to head into the city, where we will meet Atlesian archeologists and receive details for our escort mission.” He relayed quietly, giving his team a look to see if they had any reaction to the statement. “It will be a week long mission, to scout ruins far off the main, patrolled routes throughout Kingdom territory. Further, Grimm presence in the region is moderate. A military patrol is in the area, but you are to expect delays and pack for two weeks, and expect to fight class two and below Grimm.”

“Class two.” Pyrrha noted quietly, echoing anxiety until she took a breath and nodded, forcing herself to relax. Something she was becoming tragically adept at doing, to his mind at least in spite of her self-mutilating heroism. “Well, we fought worse than that in Initiation. Boarbatusks were the only of those we failed to encounter. We’ll be fine.”

“Hm.” He nodded, pinching off a piece of his biscuit and taking a bite idly. Sensing a pang of anxiety from his team he added, somewhat mutedly, “I’m sure we’ll be fine, as long as we’re careful.”

“Jaune.” Pyrrha’s voice was edged and, when he turned, her eyes were just as sharp. Hard, green and icy shards that met his in a way he was sure told Nora and Ren something was up. They’d need to be blind to miss it when it was so blatant, but she seemed uncaring as she went on, “We’ll be fine. We just need to keep our heads and act in a way that brings honor to our names and fellows.”

“Y-Yeah.” He nodded, for a brief moment more afraid of Pyrrha than for her. Coughing to clear his throat and collect himself, he turned to the other, wide-eyed partner pair and added with a small smile, “We’ll be fine, as long as we fight well and hard. I mean, we have me, the prodigal son, Pyrrha the champion of Mistral, and Nora, rider of Ursa. Who could face us?”

“Who.” Ren parroted carefully, Nora’s bright eyes on her blonde leader like a predator locked on prey. “Don’t you mean what?”

“I… I, Ren...” Damn, but Ren was sharp. Normally the wordage wouldn’t have mattered, but with Pyrrha and he’s back and forth, he was suspicious. Jaune could feel it radiating off him in waves that turned the sea to a frothing mess. “I mean, it’s outside patrol routes. Bandits will be out there, probably. But I meant Grimm, it’s just a phrase.”

And that sounded weak, but Ren grunted and nodded regardless, either pretending to be convinced or actually convinced. And with no way to know which, Jaune was forced to just move on, and hope all was well enough for now.

“Well, we should get our things together, then.” He did his best to make it sound like an order and stood, giving Ren and Nora both a look and asking, gently, “Could you two run the dishes out, please? We’ll get all our packs and head to the lockers, meet you there.”

“Sure.” Ren nodded, giving Nora’s hand a tug and then starting to gather the dishes together. With their packs on their backs and plates in their hands, Ren gave them a nod, and a smile, and bade a simple, “Farewell. See you shortly, at the lockers. And don’t take too long.”

What that meant took approximately one minute to find out, when Pyrrha rounded on him with her own pack on her back. 

“You’re letting this situation affect your judgement again, Jaune.” She chided, gentle even with the sharpness in her eyes. When he didn’t respond, she pressed his own pack into his chest and gave a small shake of her head. “Don’t let what is happening between us, or too us, have effects beyond us, Jaune.”

“It’s not that easy, Pyrrha. You know that” He argued, quiet and ever wary of people hearing, senses reaching around them to feel… Anyone at all. 

Students around him, tense and anxious for their own reasons, sprang out but nothing else aside from that and the pervading sadness that hung over the Academy uniformly. Why that was, he wasn’t sure, but the easiest and thus most likely explanation was teenage angst. Which some would call what they were having, looking in from the outside, not knowing the certainty behind everything and the dread.

“It…” He failed, looking for more words while she waited. When he found none, he gave up, pulling his backpack on and placidly finishing, “It just isn’t easy, Pyrrha. One of us- You, Pyrrha, could die.”

“No.” She shook her head, and turned to leave, speaking over her shoulder as she went. “It isn’t easy at all. But we must do it, as out duty, our honor and our obligation as Hunters of Grimm. I am happy to have this conversation as many times as there are those Grimm, Jaune, if it will see you on the right course.”

“Mad woman…” He murmured, moving to follow her without another word when she didn’t respond.

Regardless, he had a job to do, even if Pyrrha made it harder to do that job. He was used to stubborn women though, his family was stuffed full of them.

The ‘archeologists’, as it turned out, weren’t normal archaeologists waiting nervously with some soldiers like he’d at first imagine. Instead, a pair of white-uniformed and lightly armored Atlesian. They were waiting for the four of them at the open ramp of the back of an Atlesian shuttle, stocked with axes, shovels, picks, and dull grey crates stacked to one side of the compartment. In the other, a trio of dull silver robots stood with their heads bowed and rifles held across their chests, inactive at the end of a quintet of chairs set against one side of the compartment for them. One, stockier and with a sparse dusting of white hair on his chin, had red-lined armor.

Officer’s armor, Jaune knew from his studies under his father.

“Team Juniper?” The red-armored soldier asked as they approached, returning the nod Jaune gave him. “Lieutenant Black, Atlesian Special Research Division. Have you been briefed?”

“Technically, yes. Beacon sent us a message, told us to come and meet you.” And the fact that the message they’d gotten hadn’t mentioned the SRD had his hackles raised. Either because he was anxious lately over what was going on or natural suspicion, he couldn’t be sure. Suspicion came so easily to Sith, like breathing, so he could never be sure. For those reasons he added a gentle, “They… They also said that you’d give us more details about the mission?”

“Old mountain ruins were spotted by a patrol that ranged too far out on accident, due to malfunctioning navigational equipment.” Lieutenant Black reported stiffly, gesturing with a hand towards the equipment and the airship. “Our orders are to go there, look for historical artifacts, and withdraw with our findings. Do you four know of the SRD?”

“Nope!” Nora quipped, bright and happy as always, bouncing on her heels eagerly. “Don’t know a thing, ‘cept you’re archeologists. And soldiers. Oh! Are you guys like Doctor Jones, from the movies? How many ancient Mistralian ruins have you blown up?!”

“Uh, well… No, but… We haven’t blown up any Mistralian ruins, no.” The man’s stunned state only lasted a moment, which was better than most fared against a caffeinated Nora Valkyrie. “The Special Research Division have archeologists, historians and rangers alongside soldiers, air support and sappers, but we try to avoid damages to ruins wherever possible. Our goal is to search out and obtain knowledge from the past, to better understand the world. He who forgets the past-”

“Is doomed to repeat it.” Jaune parroted the saying, if not from their motto but instead from Instructor’s audio synthesizer. 

“You know our motto?”

“My master taught me the same lesson, yes.” He didn’t answer that it was a Revanite’s motto, though that they held it in such esteem was an interesting fact. Curious in spite of himself, he prodded, “His master taught it to him, but he never said where it came from.”

“Our organization has existed for decades, after a group of Mantle scouts found an old, iced over and buried temple.” Jaune tried to hide his reaction to that, eyes widening slightly before he schooled himself. The man spoke softly, and from him Jaune could sense a kind of guilt and underlying need to conceal.“The structure was unsafe, and damaged in the fighting when grimm arrived, but the motto was written in an old language a hobby historian knew. They brought back relics as well, which contained unfortunately classified knowledge of a forgotten age.”

Half-truths, then. It had to be, to feel like this.

“Interesting.” He smiled, offering a hand for the man. He took it and they shook, the young Force wielder smiling in as friendly a way as possible for him. “I won’t press you, but thanks for satisfying my curiosity, Lieutenant.”

“Of course.” The soldier nodded, turning to board the ship when they released each other and calling over his shoulder, “We need to go, however. We have work to be doing, and Atlas only paid for your sword arms, not your words.”

Together, the team boarded the ship and stowed their full packs with the rest of the equipment, settling in for a trip. Not a long one, luckily, but he let meditative relaxation overtake him regardless to fight off the oncoming motion sickness.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“No, no, no! Bad animals, no.” Roman sighed, sauntering through the warehouse full of crates and masked Faunus, watching two of the White Fang soldiers manhandling a crate of Dust. Standing between them, he gripped their shoulders and smiled, meeting furious gazes through their masks and smiling wider for it, “You can’t handle these boxes like you do your mothers, come on now. You’ll blow us all sky high!”

“We understand, Torchwick.” The larger one said, ram horn on one side curling around the base of his skull. On his other side was nothing but a stump, clearly burnt off and enough to earn a distant pang of sympathy from the rogue. Snarling, the ram added, “Your woman was looking for you before.”

“Neo?” No one was fool enough to call Cinder anyone’s woman, after all, so it was a formality to ask. That she felt the need to look for him rather than wait until he found her spoke of a problem, even if he’d been out of the Kingdom for a while. When the man nodded and hefted the crate, he asked, “Which way did she go?”

“That way.” The man grunted, gesturing off past several rows of high-stacked crates towards where Roman knew the offices for the warehouse were. “In a hurry, too.” She’s got some legs on her, for someone so small.”

“You can say that again.” The other Faunus murmured with a flick of his lion’s tail. Roman’s eyes narrowed and the man snorted, giving him a look through his mask. “They go all the way up too. Not bad for a Human, at least.”

Roman knew baiting when he saw it and smiled, patting the lion heavily on the shoulder and chuckling, “Yeah, she does. And she loves compliments and a good lay. Young Faunus like you, you’re bound to meet her standards. So hey, go for it, might have some fun. And in this line of work, you never know when a day is your last, right?”

“True…” The Faunus nodded, “Ain’t she your woman, though? Ain’t the type to go house wrecking.”

“Nah, don’t worry about that. Grab the gazelle by the horns and dig in, you animal!” He laughed, clapping him on the shoulder, “But do it after work. And don’t blow yourself up, that’s no fun for me, you, or the cleaning crew.”

He didn’t wait for the lion to respond, turning and stalking off before he could, but he never stopped smiling. Stupid young bastard like him would go for it, and Neo would enjoy cutting him apart for daring to. Before or after having fun with him, he couldn’t be sure. Little minx was random like that, but that was her business.

Halfway to where he’d been told Neo had run off looking for him, he felt a small hand grab his and looked down, meeting pink and white eyes, “Ah, Neo.”

“I missed you.” She signed for him, releasing his hand with hers and wrapping her arm around him in a hug, face pressed against his side. He gave her head a pat, chuckled, and watch her other hand moving rapidly, “You were gone so long. I got worried something happened.”

“Worried?” He snorted, and then sighed when she pulled away to scowl up at him. “About me? Neo, you know your old man always survives. People he’s with, maybe not, but...” He shrugged and smiled, “I always come back, even from Atlas or hell itself.”

“You repeated yourself, Pops. Starting to lose it up there?” She smiled, releasing him and bouncing away happily. 

Roman watched her and followed her for a bit while she wandered. Enjoying having him around, he knew from her earlier explanations. Finally, she turned and smiled thinly up at him, walking backwards towards the sleeping areas around the offices, the latter being where the duo did their planning with the bitch and the bull. A behavior he knew meant 

“You were looking for me?” He asked, carrying Melodic Cudgel in one hand and walking where she lead. She nodded and he raised an eyebrow, “Normally you just wait somewhere to surprise me, or sneak around. The animals spotted you.”

“Oh?” She said in her way, one eyebrow raised and her head cocked to the side. 

“Yeah.” He smirked, “A lion boy complimented your legs, too.”

“I do have nice legs.” She signed, grinning and giving him a look that demanded a compliment.

“Yeah, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. No one could want a more pretty adopted midget assassin.” She laughed and fanned herself silently and he rolled his eyes at her antics, already refreshed just from their short time together. After a moment of her mimed blushing maiden routine, he coughed and asked, “So, what were you wanting to show me?”

“So I stole someone’s uniform and did the whole ‘go to work’ thing, you know pretending to be a normie.” She rolled her eyes at the term and he mirrored her gesture, amused at her referring to the average bear as ‘normie’. Just because she was crazy and they were thieves didn’t mean she could judge people.

Rob them, maybe, but judge? They had standards!

“Well, I went to a little karaoke bar thingy, and found something.” She smiled, fishing her Scroll out of her blouse and rolling her eyes at his rolling his eyes. “We’re not actually related you know. It’s okay to look.”

“I’m good, thanks.” He assured her, smiling patronizingly and earning a theatrical, overblown sigh. He really didn’t need to encourage her teasing, so he left it there, asking, “What did you find that was so interesting?”

She didn’t answer him, instead holding her Scroll out and grinning widely. He took it, punched in her weak security code and looking at the image frozen on the screen. Then he blinked, turned to get it in some shadow for a better look, and smiled, “Fuck me… Red’s little gang has the Schnee in it?”

Leaning over, he flicked by the picture of them all sitting to another, and pointed at the Schnee’s hands. Fixed firmly to the kitty’s ears, while the Faunus flushed and smiled. Either the Schnee made the Faunus let her get some petting in, or the Faunus offered, but either way it was damn sure to rankle some hides. And that meant he had leverage on a certain bull and through him, the bitch.

“Good job, sweetheart!” He praised, ruffling her hair and smiling widely, “Now I have an idea…”

XxX----XxX----XxX

You guys and your long reviews, needing long responses, sheesh. I mean, go to town, I love it. But yeah, looooooong Reviewer Responses below. Sorry for somewhat padding the word count. And to said Reviewers, if I come across as short, it’s because I’m avoiding padding the word count too much. If anyone wants to DM me for more detailed chat, feel free. Or join my server to do the same. Advertising neither, merely offering for those so inclined.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Dr Killinger :

Take care, man. I know how you feel, I used to have to work at, uh *checks notes to avoid lawsuit* ‘Penny Approximate’, if you catch my drift. Ten hour shifts, clopen-ing often, near enough to no pay and incompetent staff around me. Glad my stories provide some manner of relief!

Makuaraymi :

My character dialogue and actions are based on the show, in all cases I default to it. Yang play-flirts with Blake from nearly the word go in the show, so respectfully, I disagree. Further, I specifically talked to a bisexual person I know and had them review their interactions and got a seal of approval. The difference they detailed is that the discomfort and anxiety comes from a place of anxiety over not being accepted, which we have little indication is a thing in Remnant.

It also comes down to individuals in the whole ‘sexual awakening’ thing. I, personally, am asexual, and coming to that took about a year. Then it was over. I accepted it, no one but my stereotypical - and I mean SUPER stereotypical - Republican mother cared, and everyone moved on inside a day.

Basically, I see your concern, and can only say that in Remnant things are easier, if just a bit. There are giant monsters of living shadow, who puts their diddles where is… Less of a thing. XD

They are only tagged since some requested I tag them since they will be important to the plot. Also, yes, they may be - or seem, at least - unconnected to the Star Wars stuff. So is Cinder herself probably, but I assure you she will drive plot too. Their involvement will be demonstrated in full in time. Another good concern, and I really do get it and appreciate the offered critiques, but another ‘Wait and see’ kinda one. 

You feel me all the way through all that?

Argus : 

Poorly. XD

Mahina Fable :

Pyrrha is my favorite to write, and the hardest. Chapters have been delayed hours and more because I wanted to get her lines right. And I appreciate your support in the other things, too, though I get the pushbacks there.

Some people don’t like the Bees, or think that they don’t fit being shipped properly or convey the right ideas, and that’s fine. I disagree and will hash things out as seen above as to why and how I disagree, but again it’s fine. And people are sensitive to racism being shown right now. 

For those reading, I will point out here that Weiss was a racist in this story. However, she was also a good person, and once challenged changed her mind. This is the case for many people like this, raised with an un-challenged belief. I made a point of showcasing BOTH of the kinds in this story. One is just more neatly dealt with, owing to how easily dismissed it is. Fun fact! I was the second kind, see mention of my uber-Republican mother, until I was abouuuut twelve and met an African-American kid named Lemar.

I appreciate you seeing and looking for the nuance. 

Chris Adair :

That… Is a good criticism, actually. Now I wish I’d done that.

Knightwolf :

That isn’t a terrible idea, actually, though fuel and ammunition would be a thing. And if I allow space-travel, I don’t know how that would go, so it would have to be on-planet preferably. Good ideas, but needs me working on it, is my point.

Connor Worsnop :

No, yeah, he’s popular for a good reason.

Zenith Tempest :

Oh he will face down against different, graver threats than normal Huntsman. But not right now. Not yet. He needs to be stronger, and a lot of that is on the Huntsman end of things. Instructor simply couldn’t have helped him learn any of that, and spent the time focusing more on Force lessons than saber lessons, though he taught him that well enough too. Instructor neither had the space to teach him wild and crazy acrobatics, or the knowledge to teach him to use his Aura, so those are intrinsic weaknesses to his background.

Remember though, Jaune hasn’t lost a fight yet because he was weaker. He won against the Grimm at Ansel handily, and only lost the first fight against Yang because Glynda called the fight against his will due to injury. Now, he’s learning to balance - see the theme? - his Aura skills and Force utilities more readily thanks to Pyrrha’s help.

As for sensing Glynda’s intentions he was in a full room of anxious, chattering teenagers and staff. With a lot of effort, and knowing who he was targeting, he could have. But he had no reason to suspect them - yet - and thus no motivation to put such effort into getting a basic read. And had he sensed guilt and anxiety, that could easily be chalked up to sending kids on dangerous missions, since Jaune doesn’t know about the Maidens and so Ozpin is only a well-connected Headmaster in his eyes currently.

On the note of ships, someone suggested a fighter or something rather than a capital ship. Thoughts there? As it stands, I don’t plan on doing space stuff, but I could easily hear reasons to do so.


End file.
